


trust me.

by jnobeano



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Fighting, Frustration, Language, Secrets, Violence, did i mention secrets?, road trip :P
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnobeano/pseuds/jnobeano
Summary: Secrets- so easy to tell, yet so hard to keep.Under the new government, the United States of America doesn't seem so united anymore, and more people are forced to keep secrets for the sake of theirs and their loved ones lives. When Renjun's neighbourhood greets their first new family since Renjun was born, things start to change for the worse, and Renjun has to think very carefully about who he can trust with his secrets.Alternatively, the fic where Renjun meets a new friend while painting on his balcony, and his well-structured life starts to fall apart.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, but this story is mainly, there'll be some other ships
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. mission

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! welcome to my first chaptered fic <3
> 
> i need to mention that this au WILL have violence, so if you are okay with fighting, guns, and whatever else comes with fighting and guns, then please continue! however, if you think your health will be affected by reading that, please, please, take a moment to think before about reading. it will be difficult to read this au if you miss out on certain events, so i do suggest you take care and stop reading when needed. i'll try tag specifics at the beginnings of some chapters as a warning, but besides that, i can't say much, as it will affect the plot.
> 
> with that, please stay safe !! and have fun reading. 
> 
> you're in for a looong ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's gonna be guns. :)

Another ear-splitting crack against wood. 

Pounding footsteps- rapid, urgent, each thump an echo of the one before it. 

Voices- muttering, cursing, all too familiar to Renjun’s ears. 

“Renjun,” the comm in Renjun’s ear crackles, making him flinch. 

“No names on the comms, oh-two-five,” Renjun grumbles under his breath, back pressing against the cool metal of the shipping container he’s hiding behind. Sweat beads along his forehead as he hears a sigh come from the other end.

“But-”

“No excuses,” he interrupts, palms slick against the floor. “This is important.”

The room falls into a tense silence, all the pounding and crashing from earlier suddenly gone. 

“Calm down, oh-two-three,” comes another voice, a warning hovering behind the words. It’s a voice that Renjun has learnt to respect and follow, so he doesn’t retort, and instead surveys his surroundings. 

Tall, dark walls surround the team, wide enough to leave the impression that the building they’re in resembles a warehouse. There are shipping containers of different sizes serving as protection for the team, along with planks of wood leaning against them. Goosebumps ripple across Renjun’s skin as he registers the silence and the sudden, unnatural chill of the building. 

The shooting that occurred just minutes earlier has abruptly stopped, leaving the building silent besides the tired breathing of the team members. 

“Oh-two-four, come in,” Renjun breathes, inching closer to the edge of the container he is kneeling against. No response. “Oh-two-four, I repeat-”

“What,” the voice snaps, monotonous as ever but filled with irritation and impatience. Renjun tenses, almost regretting the decision to call on him, but the importance of the mission forces him to speak once more. 

“Do you see it?” 

Silence vibrates across the line, but Renjun can hear the agent shift. 

“Shit,” Agent 024 spits, basically slamming his back against the container. Renjun flinches at the sound it makes, seemingly louder than a bang. 

“Guys,” the agent says through gritted teeth, now addressing the whole group, “there’s three of them.”

“Three?!” Renjun has to bite his cheek to stop him from screaming. He hears the other agents muttering apprehensively across the line.

_ Three? They’ve never sent three? _

“One of them saw me,” Agent 024 sighs, disappointment thick in his tongue. 

“What?” This is Agent 001. “T-”

“Oh-oh-one, with all due respect, shut the fuck up,” Agent 024 seethes, “I know I made a mistake.”

Silence. 

Then, metal footsteps.

Renjun’s mind goes into offense mode as the footsteps start nearing the hiding spots of him and his team. He peeks just slightly over the side of the container….

And he’s met with two glowing red eyes. 

“Renjun, MOVE!” A shout comes, echoing against the surfaces in the warehouse. In a split second, Renjun rolls back on his stiff vest as the agent shoots at the enemy at the same time, not caring if Renjun had moved or not, no,  _ trusting _ that Renjun would’ve moved.

He’s up on his feet soon, running amongst the containers. So far, no sight of his other team members, but he’s sure they’re somewhere. He turns back to check if the enemy follows. 

Mistake.

When he turns, there’s another standing in his way.

The enemy nears him, metal rib cage and menacing eyes threatening to shoot him. The gun in its hand goes up slowly, and Renjun pauses for a moment- one thing he was trained never to do in combat. 

But he does it.

_ Breathe.  _

The enemy moves slower. Shouts in the background are quieter. Everything seems calmer. 

But Renjun moves quickly.

Adrenaline burns through him as time returns, and the tip of the gun is basically pressed to his chest. His fingers curl around the barrel and with all the strength in his arms, he yanks the gun out of his enemy’s grasp before they can shoot. As soon as it goes, though, a silver fist comes up in the corner of Renjun’s eye, and before he can dodge, it slams against his cheekbone with a resounding crack.

His vision blurs for a moment; his ears ring with confusion. A distant voice in his head registers that the enemy is still approaching, but all he can think of is the warmth trickling down the side of his face and the aching pain behind his eyes. He feels almost helpless, and is close to giving up when a blur of black appears, sending the enemy flying across the floor with a powerful kick, then proceeding to shoot it dead.

“Get up,” Agent 024 says, sticking a hand out to Renjun on the floor. “You’ve been through more than this, Huang. Up.” 

Renjun grits his teeth, glaring at the boy above him, and reluctantly takes his hand. 

“Grow up,” the agent says, instantly slipping away, “help is normal.”

“I had it covered,” Renjun spits, wiping the blood dripping down his face with the back of his hand.

Agent 024 scoffs, “sure,” before rushing towards the back of an enemy.

A sudden shout echoes from behind Renjun and he spins, only to see agent 010 on the floor in the corner, shuffling backwards from the enemy hovering above him. They’re a good 20 meters away, too far for Renjun to reach and take down physically before the agent is shot, so he resorts to the gun in his holster.

Injury forgotten, Renjun lifts his gun, aims at the small white light pulsing on the chest of the enemy as it raises its gun to the agent, and shoots. 

Bullseye.

The metal monster falls forward, barely letting the agent roll away. 

“That was fucking cool, dude.” Agent 010 grins, a bright smile blinding Renjun as he runs over, panic long forgotten. “Have you ever shot from that far?”

Renjun shakes his head, cheek still throbbing from the punch.

“New record,” the agent slaps Renjun’s back, hard, making him take a step to balance himself. 

The cut on Renjun’s cheek doesn’t seem to be getting better at all, the painful cool of the room causing it to stiffen and feel as if it could rip apart his face with so much as a smile. Despite that, he returns to the fight, determined to defeat the final enemy with all of his teammates intact. 

Turning, he sees the two eldest members of the team crouching against a small container, squished together in positions that wouldn’t give them enough time to run if they wanted to. They also seem unaware of the fact that the enemy is right around the corner.

_ Think. _

From Renjun’s spot near a pile of wooden planks, he is able to examine the surroundings of that area. Taking a closer look at the two, he also registers the fact that neither of them hold their guns.

_ Goddamnit. _

Renjun shifts his vision to the left, and upon doing so, spots a familiar toe of a boot, before it shuffles back. The toe has a white strike of what seems like paint on the front, and Renjun notices. The agent is in a spot where the enemy can’t directly see him, and lo-and-behold, is also near one of the dropped guns. 

Racking his memories, Renjun tries to identify the tip of that combat boot. 

“Agents oh-oh-one and oh-two-four, don’t move.” Renjun catches their eyes from his hiding spot, and they nod. “No one move.”

“Agent oh-two-eight,” he adds, fingers crossed that he has the right person because the enemy is still inching closer to the clueless agents.

“Oh-two-three, this is oh-two-eight, over.”

“Can you shoot the enemy?” 

A gulp travels through. “I lost my gun.”

Renjun clenches his fist, unable to believe that some of the best agents the Organization has keep losing their fucking guns.

“Do you see the gun at your two-o’clock?” As the words leave Renjun’s lips, the toe of the boot shuffles forwards once more, and slowly, Agent 028’s head peeks out from behind the container, and immediately catches sight of Renjun.

“Grab it,” Renjun whispers. The agent nods, and then turns his vision to the back of the towering monster that is the enemy. Renjun can clearly see the panic spinning the agent’s mind, but he keeps his fingers crossed, hoping and praying that his teammate can grab the gun and shoot safely.

The air in the building stills as the agent stretches one leg forward after another, managing to silently get closer and closer to the gun.

_ Closer…. _

There’s not much space between the agent and the gun, but it’s only a matter of time until the enemy senses him.

_ Just a little closer…. _

Fingers curling around the handle, Agent 028 manages to lift the gun soundlessly. 

Renjun can feel it on the tip of his tongue, the urge to scream “ _ SHOOT! _ ”

Agent 028 is squatting only a couple of feet away from the back of the giant, adjusting his grip on the gun, aiming at the blue spot smack center on the enemy’s back.

_ Just shoot it, holy fuck.  _

The tension in the room is suffocating.

A voice hisses through the comms: “ _ Just shoo- _ ” 

The enemy turns before anyone can blink, red eyes zeroed in on Agent 028.

But before he can shoot, a deafening bang reverberates in everyone’s ears- the sound of the enemy’s gun going off.

It takes a while for the rest of the agents to compute what just happened, but it clicks in all of their heads at the same time with horrible realization as Agent 028 falls to the floor, thick crimson dripping down his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. first chapter complete.
> 
> pretty short, but honestly, throughout this fic, chapters will range from super short to pretty long haha....
> 
> anyways, i hope you liked it, and please feel free to leave any thoughts, comments or critisicm (constructive pls) below !!
> 
> thanks for reading, and i hope to see you after the next chapter !!


	2. a call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if you can see it, but it's pretty short.
> 
> nothing too bad here, so :)

“ _ You understand what’s going to happen, right? _ ”

The boy nods, swallowing, even though the man on the other side can’t see him. It’s just past dusk now. The sun is long gone and only a trace of its brightness left behind the clouds.

“Yes,” he says quickly, a bead of sweat forming above his temple.

“ _ Good. I’ll see you soon. _ ” A click signals the end of the call between the boy and the man, and he lets out an exhale that’s half relieved, half worried. 

He just needs to be by himself, for once. Allowed to release the knot of tension that keeps tightening in his stomach whenever he’s near anyone. No matter who he’s with, there is always something he needs to hide, a secret that could not only put the people he knows in danger but himself, too. 

Spotting something in the distance, the boy’s breath starts to quicken, and he haphazardly shoves the phone into the pocket of his hoodie he slipped on a little earlier. 

He thought he’d finally escaped the life he’s been living his entire life, but of course, he hasn’t.

He’ll just have to keep going, and going, trapped in a vicious cycle of secrets until someone else comes along to save him.


	3. team

Gasps dot around the warehouse as they watch Agent 028 fall.

He remains limp on the floor; no one dares to move.

Then, the white LED lights of the warehouse blink to red, the warehouse walls falling away in glitches of blue and green, revealing the pristine white walls of the training room. Smaller bots roll in to clean up the fallen fighter bots, paint splats, and blood, as a familiar PA system starts to speak.

“Youth division, you have failed Field Training Session 0947, please make your way to the East door, thank you.” 

Agent 024 groans as he makes his way to where Agent 028 is starting to stand. The rest of the agents automatically move to gather as a group, all drenched in sweat and exhausted. The PA system continues to repeat the programmed line as the boys glow red, holstering their guns and wiping their sweat. 

“Sorry guys,” Hendery sighs, sticking his finger in the splatter of red on his vest. 

“It happens,” Kun smiles, patting his back. “We lasted pretty long with three bots, so I think we should rule that as a win.”

Renjun moves closer to the group but sees something disappear towards the West door. From the back, it looks like a person, but when Renjun turns back to the group, the other seven boys are all there. 

With the persistent throbbing of his cheek, he decides against overthinking, rolls his neck, and makes his way to the group.

“Renjun had a sick shot in earlier,” Yangyang grins, nudging the boy with his shoulder.

“Renjun also almost got shot earlier,” Ten mumbles, earning a punch on the shoulder from Kun. 

“We did well,” Dejun says, slipping his comm off then pressing the small button at the back of his neck that ejects the needle attached to the chip at the top of his spine. Each of them follows suit, their comms blinking red as soon as it loses contact with its owner.

Comms used in training are different from the comms used in the field. Of course, there’s the comm portion of it that settles comfortably into each of their ears, but it’s followed by a thin, metal arch molded to wrap each of their ears, painted matte black. About halfway down the back of the ear, the metal thins out into a wire of medium-thickness that turns into a needle that connects to the chip lodged at the top of their spines, constantly monitoring their vitals throughout the session, as well as their progress, almost like a hard drive. 

The team shuffles towards the East door as instructed, combat boots squeaking against the concrete floor. Waiting for them is a familiar-looking guy dressed like them in black cargo pants and a t-shirt with the Mysti logo printed on the front in gold. In his hands is the case with eight charging compartments for their comms.

“Taeyong!” Kun grins, speeding ahead of the group.

“Judging by the red flashing lights, I’m guessing that you guys didn’t do so well?” Taeyong grins, clicking the case open as they near. He has to speak a little louder than usual to be heard over the PA system talking.

“We did pretty well for three bots, thank you very much,” Dejun says coming up behind Kun and clicking his comm in as Kun does his.

Taeyong’s eyebrows shoot up. “Three?”

“Yeah,” Hendery frowns, putting his comm in. Taeyong looks him up and down, and upon seeing the splatter of red on his vest, shakes his head with a smile. “Can’t believe Taeil did us dirty like that. Sending in three bots  _ and  _ only giving us one chance?”

“You?” Taeyong asks. Hendery parts his lips to say something decides against it. Taeyong pats his shoulder, chuckling as he says, “Happens.”

“It’s fine, he’s not the only one who messed up,” Renjun says, trying to smile at the older boy. It hurts him. Taeyong visually grimaces at the cut on Renjun’s face. 

“Jeez,” he says, still holding the case up for the final members to click their comms in. “I guess it’s time to up the training. What with the other states getting restless… and you know…”

The group hums, all knowing what he’s referring to. Soon, Taeyong shuts the case and moves towards the North door, where he’ll end up entering the area where most of the senior members of the Organization will be. The team continues on their trek away from the room, all famished and ready to go home and eat.

Kun and Ten start bickering about something at the front of the group, with Yukhei, Dejun, Hendery, and Yangyang following close behind. Renjun mentally counts the members from behind as he fiddles with the gun in hand. It’s shut off, of course. As always, the guns are dysfunctional as soon as they step out of the large doors of the training room, ready to be put in their lockers.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice comes from Renjun’s right. On instinct, he brings a hand up ready to strike, only to see Sicheng- the newest member of the division- wide-eyed with his hands up.

“Sorry,” Renjun mumbles, moving forwards once more, exhaustion bone deep within him, limiting his speech. He holsters his gun carelessly, then rolls his sore wrists.

“It’s fine,” Sicheng bites his lip, seemingly wanting to say something, but Renjun doesn’t encourage him. Then he starts saying, “Your cheek….”

“What about it?” Renjun can feel the blood drying on his skin but is too tired to bother with it. 

“You should… get it checked out,” Sicheng says, a subconscious look of pity on his face. Renjun only hums in response, then quickly mutters “I’ll deal with it” to at least seem like he’s grateful for the comment.

“Hey,” another voice comes to Renjun’s side. He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, only wanting to escape the team for the night. They are currently walking through a brightly lit hallway that would eventually lead them to an elevator that would in turn take them above ground, and to whatever floor of the company headquarters they please. Sicheng speeds up just slightly to catch-up with the boys ahead, knowing about the tension between Renjun and the other boy. 

Renjun turns, sighing as the taller boy grimaces at the cut on his cheek.

“That’s gonna leave a scar,” he murmurs.

“No shit,” Renjun shoots back. Then he adds, “sorry.”

Yukhei only laughs dryly, moving an arm as if he wants to reach for Renjun, but ends up pulling it back. “All good. Think your parents will be worried?”

Renju shrugs. “Dunno. They’re never really worried, I mean, they’re the ones that shoved me into this system eight years ago.” The elevator at the end of the hall grows in size, and soon, Ten is pressing the button to call it. Renjun doesn’t miss how Yangyang sneaks a peek at the two behind them, smirking just slightly. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Yukhei shoves his hands in his pocket, gun holstered. He has this odd habit of not using a long-sleeved shirt under his vest, claiming that it’s too hot, so Renjun gets a clear look at the fresh bruises he got from the recent training session.

“Better ice those,” Renjun says, and the conversation drifts to a stop as Yukhei nods. There’s this uncomfortable ball of tension in the space between them, but neither of them tries to acknowledge it. Ahead, the elevator door opens, and the six shuffle in. Yukhei jogs ahead and makes it into the elevator just a few seconds before Renjun, who is starting to feel the emotional ache from the last time the team met.

As the elevator door shuts after Renjun enters, Yangyang leans over the boy’s shoulder, whispering, “You and Yukhei have the perfect height difference,” earning an elbow in the gut from Renjun. 

The elevator slows to a stop, opening to reveal the actual basement of the company building, where the team steps out. It’s a lot smaller than the training facility below, only because it’s meant for storage space. 

Mysti is a technology company where most of their parents work. The company is responsible for most- if not all- of the current technological enhancements known to the world since the country crumbled under the previous government. From phones to cars, Mysti has their name on everything. 

Only the highest members of the board are aware of the underground protection squad assembled to work for the government. Currently, their active team consists of eight young men between the ages of 19 to 24, each of which are currently trudging across their empty, dim-lit basement to reach the changing rooms at the other end, past the boxes and carts of new appliances.

Once reached, Kun, presses his palm to the scanner by a sleek metal door near the back, so smooth it almost looks like a metallic rectangle in the white wall. The boys wait as red line slides from the top to the bottom of the screen. When the light turns green, the door unlocks with a low click, then slides aside to reveal a more brightly lit room that kind of resembles a high school boys locker room, except a lot neater, more expensive and it smells nice. 

“Okay. Shower and change quickly, then meet at the elevator again,” Kun says, as he does after every training session. The boys acknowledge the statement, and then go off in their separate directions. 

Renjun makes it to his locker, jabbing three numbers into the keypad on the door before it clicks open, revealing a clean, white t-shirt piled on top of a pair of grey sweatpants and a yellow hoodie. Above that hangs a towel, which he pulls from the rod at the top of his locker, before slipping away to the showers, looking forward to feeling warm water trickle down his back. 

☆★

“It stings,” Renjun hisses, as Yangyang comes over to sit with him on the bench. 

“Unfortunately, we don’t have any supplies here to help with your terrifying-looking cut. You’re gonna have to ask your mom to help you.” Yangyang straddles the bench beside Renjun, who’s slumped, staring at his locker as water drips onto the back of his hoodie, darkening the yellow in little patches. 

“I got soap in it,” Renjun mutters, turning to his friend. Yangyang winces, and then holds Renjun’s chin and turns his face away to inspect the cut. 

“Damn,” Yangyang exhales, moving Renjun’s head around so that he can see the injury in a better light. “That looks painful. Are they like, programming the bots to be more violent or something?” Renjun shrugs in response. He seems to be doing a lot of that today. Yangyang then continues, releasing Renjun’s head. “You were probably just unlucky.”

“I was slow,” Renjun says, numb. He hasn’t been this tired after a training session in a long time, and he’s pretty sure it’s because of the amount of energy he used to ignore the urge to rip his cheek apart from the horrible, horrible ache of the injury. He can just imagine how purple and black it’s gonna be, even under the bandage he’ll put on over the cut. He can just imagine all the questions he’s gonna get when he goes back to school. 

_ School. _

Renjun groans loudly, dropping his head. 

“What’s wrong now,” Ten mutters. The two boys on the bench turn their heads to where the voice is coming from, seeing their second-oldest team member half-naked with a red towel wrapped around his waist. There’s no care in his tone whatsoever, but neither of the boys are fazed, knowing Ten is more likely to lick a slug than actually have compassion for the team. 

Renjun replies, despite that. “It’s Sunday.”

Ten pauses in front of his locker, watching the boy with careless eyes. “And?”

“FUCK,” Yangyang suddenly exclaims, making the other two jump. “I didn’t finish my part of the Biology slides, oh fuck, I’m gonna get in so much trouble.” With that, he rushes to his locker, dramatic cries leaving his lips. It makes Renjun laugh, which in turn makes it feel like his cut is tearing his face apart. 

“How’s the face,” Ten says, words bouncing from the back of his locker as he turns away. Every question he asks lacks the usual intonation of a question mark, making everything sound dull.

“Eh,” Renjun shrugs, going to touch it, used to the way he speaks. As soon as his cold finger makes contact, he feels bliss above the pain, and before he can stop himself, he’s gently resting all of his fingers on his cheek above the cut, his eyes closing as he waits until his fingers absorb the warmth from his face.

Renjun hears a sigh come from the locker and opens his eyes again. Opposite from Ten- who is now fully clothed and dry- stands Yukhei, white towel wrapped around his waist. He’s staring at Renjun, but quickly turns away when he realizes that the boy’s eyes are open. 

Ten mutters something under his breath and shuts his now empty locker with a slam, making Sicheng jump as he returns to his locker just a couple of doors down from Renjun’s.

Usually, Renjun’s heart would pick up at the sight of Yukhei’s body no matter how many times he’s seen it, due to the sheer fact that it looks like it was sculpted by the gods, but right now, he’s too tired to go boy-crazy over his long-time teammate. 

And too confused.

“Okay, everyone done?” Kun says too chirpily. Yangyang’s stomach grumbles as he appears in the locker area with an open laptop in hand, and he nods before typing again with one hand. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Dejun says, after being silent for so long. Since there are only four showers, they had to go in groups. Dejun was the first to be done, so his hair is already dry, and looks like a fluffy mass of light brown. His arm is over his stomach, and everyone in the room starts towards the doors except Yukhei who is still getting dressed. 

“I’m starving,” Ten says, swinging his bag over his back. He rolls his eyes when he sees Yukhei’s bareback. “Speed up, Yukhei.” 

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei grumbles, slipping a black t-shirt over his torso. For some odd reason, Renjun can’t pull his eyes away, but thankfully Sicheng saves him from any embarrassment by tapping his shoulder and gesturing to the door. He snaps out of it, grabs his stuff, and leaves with the rest, not waiting for Yukhei to follow.

☆★

As the elevator begins to ascend once more, four buttons glowing, several stomachs grumble in the silence. It’s nothing new. They do combat training first, then tech and gadgets, then finally field training. After those grueling five hours, they’re bound to be hungry.

“Bye,” Ten says, not bothering to look back at the team as he steps out to the marble-floored lobby of the company building. 

Kun shakes his head, but then says, “Good job today guys. See you on Wednesday,” before slipping out after the other boy. No one bats an eye at the random young men walking across the lobby in ripped jeans and sweats, because they all know they have a pass to get in the building anyway, and that the CEO is aware of them.

Kun is a family friend’s son. He’d already started training before Renjun joined, and instantly became a sibling figure to the only-child. Kun has always been close to the CEO’s family, and they’ve all visited Kun on multiple occasions whenever a vacation or break was available

Can’t say the same about the other one, however. Ten was the most recent addition to the team before Sicheng, and the moment he was introduced, the team could tell he was a mysterious soul. To this day, they’re still unsure of whether Ten is his birth name or not, if he has a family, or what he does for a living. They never see him outside of training, but the simple fact that he was even recruited for the team means that he can be trusted, so no one (beside Kun) ever bothered to get to know him.

The metal doors slide close, the oldest members eventually disappearing through the two glass doors ahead. After a couple of seconds of ascending, the doors open once more on level 6. It’s a smaller version of the lobby, but with carpeted floors and a single person at the reception desk. Here, Sicheng, Dejun, and Hendery step out, bidding their goodbyes to the remaining three boys in the elevator. Renjun reads the gold lettering above the reception worker’s head that reads “TECHNOLOGY DEVELOPMENTS”, as the door closes.

The elevator hums, cool air wafting from the top. The remainder of the team remains quiet, all too tired and hungry to say anything to each other. 

Another ding of the elevator opens up to a much different floor: white walls, white floors, and glass doors on either side, each leading to a different set of offices for the financial department. Yangyang exits, but not before he pokes Renjun’s side, making him squirm and bump into Yukhei, who balances Renjun by holding his hips. The brunet glares at Yangyang who rushes out, saying, “see you next training!” to the two as the doors close again.

Renjun stands straight, but Yukhei’s hands don’t move, unfortunately for him. 

_ Thought you’d make this easy for me,  _ Renjun thinks, as he pulls away from Yukhei’s warmth, instantly looking up to see the hurt in Yukhei’s eyes. But it disappears quickly and is instead replaced by a soft smile.

“What?” Renjun asks, furrowing his brows. 

“Nothing,” Yukhei replies, sighing. He winces and presses his palm to the area just above his hip, but brings it down when he catches Renjun looking.

“Are you hurt?” Renjun asks. Yukhei only shrugs. “Training?” Yukhei shakes his head. “Then?”

“I slipped and bumped into a sink in the changing room.”

Silence washes over them as they stare at each other.

Then, Renjun bursts out laughing, despite it all. Yukhei starts laughing too, placing the hand back on his hip with a wince. “It hurts, okay? Stop laughing.”

“I swear,” Renjun wheezes in the middle of laughing, “You’re the only person who could complete field training with a few bruises and scratches but end up hurting yourself in the bathroom.”

Slowly, the elevator drifts into silence once more, as their laughter dies out. It ascends higher and higher, passing the 14th and 15th floors. The only button that glows now is the button reading ‘32’, which is where both their parents work. Only the sound of their evening breaths fills the box as they lean against the frigid wall facing the door, hips touching.

“Hey, Renjun?” Yukhei finally breaks the silence.

Renjun licks his dry lips, keeping his vision on the door in front of them. “What’s up?” He says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

Renjun and Yukhei were both put in the system at an early age, and at the same time. After being adopted by two of the toughest trainers of the Organization when he was seven years old, Renjun grew up with a tough shell and put up a lot of walls, making him a pretty mean, gritty kid. Despite that, blinding smile, pretty boy Yukhei kept going at him until they became friends.

It’s a cliché story that anyone would die for. Best friends… growing up together… wouldn’t it be perfect if they fell in love? Had their happily ever after?

“About last time…” Yukhei trails off, and Renjun begins to feel suffocated in that metal box. He knows what’s coming, and he’s dreaded it, every second of training. Usually, he can focus perfectly, but today was different, only because of what happened after the last training session.

“Do we have to talk about it?” Renjun lets out a laugh that comes out as a squeak, and his cheeks burn up. 

“I mean, we should probably,” Yukhei says, pushing himself off the wall to face Renjun. “We really should.”

Renjun stands properly, but in doing so, brings his face closer to Yukhei’s. His legs feel leaden, frozen, and he can’t move from his spot. Yukhei is the only thing that stands between him and the door of the elevator, and the feeling of being trapped starts leaking into his heart.

“Was it a mistake?” Yukhei whispers, tilting his head, eyes still trained on Renjun’s. “I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t.” Renjun interrupts. The eye contact stays, but Yukhei stops talking. The urge to lean forward and repeat what happened last time is too strong, but Renjun is scared, and he just wishes he didn’t have to feel the things he feels towards Yukhei.

The elevator slows and eventually comes to a stop. When the ding comes and the doors slide open, the two of them still don’t move. Yukhei’s tongue slips out to lick his lips, and Renjun’s vision flickers to the movement just for a second, and Yukhei catches it.

“Jun,” Yukhei says, dropping eye contact. The doors are still open, and the large area behind them is empty, the only thing between them and the offices being opaque glass walls. With his heart in his throat, Renjun remains speechless, half-hoping, and half-afraid that Yukhei is going to kiss him as he did before.

Yukhei’s fingers brush his waist as he steps closer, forcing Renjun to back into the wall again. The heat between them burns, and Renjun swallows, not knowing what to do. 

Soon, Yukhei’s hand is on his waist and the other is cupping his cheek, tilting Renjun’s head to face his. Eyes, just their eyes, connect. The tension between them is like a taut rope in the way they look at each other. There’s a storm of heat and electricity between them and somewhere in the back of Renjun’s head, he registers the elevator doors closing. 

But they don’t move. 

The elevator remains still, almost waiting for them to get it over with, ready for them to leave when they’re ready.

Renjun’s eyes flutter shut, anticipating and dreading what comes next. 

He feels Yukhei’s breath on his nose, and he gets a strong sense of deja vu. It knocks him off-kilter, bringing back the heartache if the past few days that followed the first time this happened, and before he can stop it, his eyes snap open. Yukhei’s lashes are thick against his fair and bruised skin, and he’s as beautiful as ever, but there’s a painful pang in Renjun’s chest, making him want nothing but to curl up or run. 

So when Yukhei’s lips just touch the corner of his, he slips away, slamming the open button and rushing to push past the grey doors, not stopping or looking back until he’s safe in his mother’s office, sat on a soft leather chair. He shuts his eyes, willing himself to stop thinking about it. To stop thinking.

His head is pounding, and his injuries hurt more than ever, but he can’t escape the aching fear and confusion that thumps with every beat of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3


	4. sore thumb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello i'm back :D
> 
> it's been a while and i'm so sorry :(
> 
> anyways,,, here's a new chapter !!
> 
> enjoy?

Later that night, Renjun finds himself sprawled on the long sofa in his huge living room, limbs heavy. The wall of floor to ceiling windows behind him is still open from when they left earlier that morning, and the moonlight casts a gentle glow across the room, chandelier crystals sending diamonds of light to scatter across the marble tiles.

Renjun had barely let his mother stop the engine before trudging into their bungalow, kicking his sneakers off and dropping onto the soft white material of the sofa, knowing that his energy to move is quickly depleting. His mother understands. 

“Baby, get an ice pack,” his mother calls from the door, heels clicking as she slides them into the shoe closet. The door shuts with a deep thud, the automatic locks instantly whirring. He also hears her place his shoes on his shelf with a thud, before closing shutting the cupboard door. 

Renjun stands soundlessly, dragging his feet across the fluffy, ash-hued carpet in the middle of the room and through the wide doorless doorway that leads to his kitchen. Whilst he searches the smaller of his two freezers for one of their many gel ice packs, he hears his mother switch the living room lights on.

“What time is it?” Renjun calls out as he shuts the freezer door. He grabs a towel from a drawer beneath the island then bumps the drawer clothes with his hip as he wraps the ice pack in hand.

“Almost nine, your dad should be home soon,” his mother calls back. Renjun makes his way to the living room again where she is sitting in one of the armchairs, blazer draped behind her. “See anything different next door?” 

Renjun drops to the sofa by the still uncovered windows, staring at the house next door. For as long as he can remember, that house has been empty, and even his parents say that no one has lived there, even before he was adopted.

Yet, there’s a car parked in the driveway.

For some reason, Renjun’s heart drops. He has always loved the peaceful emptiness of the house next door, as no one would ever disturb him on his free evenings. The house on the other side wasn’t empty, but its owners were rarely home. Probably out busting their asses at work to afford such a luxurious residence. 

“Oh,” is all Renjun says, staring at the dark porch. The car doesn’t look fancy, and there’s only one, so he can only assume that the new family aren’t big shots, and have just decided to move to Central Haven because their previous home probably got too dangerous, what with riots happening everywhere.

Still. It’s a wonder why they would choose Zone 2 out of all places.

“I heard that there’s a boy about your age living there now,” Renjun’s mother says. He can hear the smile in her voice, and can’t help but shake his head. Her and his father have always been Renjun’s best friends from the very beginning. He never made friends at the adoption center either. All he has had in life are his parents, and as much as she loves him, she’s always made it clear that she wants him to have friends his age too. 

“I have friends, Ma,” he says with a tired smile as she approaches him with.

“Jaemin is not ‘friends’, Ren,” she says, eyebrow arched. 

“He is!” Renjun exclaims, trying to end the conversation, or at least change its direction.

“One.  _ One _ friend, baby,” she laughs, opening the clip that she used to keep her hair up all day. Her straight, hazel hair falls to her shoulders. She glows under the yellow-hued lights that glow from the candle-shaped bulbs, and (not for the first time) Renjun feels his heart glow with gratitude towards her for deciding to give the mean, little seven-year-old who refused to talk, a chance.

Fatigued, the two of them sit in silence, both basking in the presence of each other. Renjun knows that he should probably close the curtains, but he can’t seem to stop staring at the single car parked in the driveway on the other side of the cement strip that separates the two front lawns. 

An odd feeling settles in Renjun’s heart, and he can’t tell whether it’s curiosity about the new boy or the worry. New people and Renjun never really go well, which is probably why his social circle is mostly people he’s forced to get along with. Too tired to think about it more, he tries desperately to stop thinking about the boy next door.

But he finds the gears in his head spinning dizzily until he shuts down for the night. 

☆★

“Hey, hey, hey!” A familiar shout sounds behind Renjun as he slams his car door shut. A bright boy, donned in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, swings his arm around Renjun’s shoulders before he can even click the lock button on the car of the door. 

“Good morning to you too,” Renjun laughs, re-adjusting the backpack on one of his shoulders. Jaemin squeezes Renjun close, eliciting an exclamation of pain from the boy who can still feel the ache of the previous night’s training deep in his muscles. As soon as Jaemin pulls away and gets the smallest glance at Renjun’s face, he gasps.

“What happened?” Jaemin’s expression drops as he aggressively cups Renjun’s face, turning it from side to side.

“Jaemin,” Renjun grabs Jaemin’s wrists and gently pulls his hands off of his face, “you’re gonna break my neck.”

“What happened?” Jaemin repeats, concern etched into a frown.

Renjun sighs, and calmly responds with, “I tripped on a rock and fell into a tree. The bark scratched my face.” He’d initially planned on covering it with some of his mom’s concealer, but she refused to let him put anything on it until the cut healed a little bit more, thus leaving him walking around school with a dark red scab stretching across his left cheek, blue and purple skin blossoming beneath it.

“You’re always tripping over,” Jaemin shakes his head and starts towards the building once more. Renjun falls into step beside him as he says, “you need to be more careful."

Renjun doesn’t miss the visible droop in his friend’s shoulders. Their friendship started during one lunch when Jaemin decided to sit with Renjun, the high school’s resident scary boy, because he was new and bold, and knew no better. Then, it became a routine. Next thing you know, Jaemin is greeting Renjun in the parking lots before school, walking to homeroom together, meeting up after school, and actually making Renjun laugh. Renjun will admit, he never expected to become friends with a guy who dresses intimidating but has the heart of an angel, but here he is.

Students swarm the parking lot, some of which are heading in the same direction of the two boys, whilst others loiter in the final minutes before the bell. The automatic, glass doors slide open as the boys approach it in silence, both basking in the energy of the people around them.

Haven High School is the main high school in Central Haven, filled with friendly kids and good teachers. The education there is top-notch, and most graduates grow up to be some of the most successful people in the country. Of course, you can only attend if you have the money to. If not, you’re heading to one of the average high schools.

“I heard there was a new family in Zone 2,” Jaemin says, combat boots thudding with each step across the road, seemingly back to normal. 

“How did you know?” Renjun asks. He’d only found out late the night before, and with Jaemin living in Zone 7, he truly wonders how fast news can travel in this city of theirs. 

Come to think of it, it’s not that much of a surprise to Renjun. Usually, when there’s news or at least a rumor of a new family, it’s from Zones 9 to 14. It’s all ranked with money, you see. The richer, more successful you are in this city, the higher your zone. From houses to security, to facilities, the higher zones get everything in better quality, because, well… money. 

To have a new family move in somewhere as high as Zone 2 makes people think… where have these people been this whole time? Living in the cities that are still being rebuilt and recovered? Voluntarily living out in their still broken country when they could live comfortably here?

“It’s all anyone’s been talking about. Mark let it slip in Mr. Heo’s homeroom this morning, and the kids there are NUTS for gossip.”

Renjun nods, thinking of the quiet TA that visits his cousin who lives in Zone 2 occasionally. He’s practically a genius and is currently taking a gap year before he moves on with his life. Working as a TA doesn’t seem like the most ambitious thing for someone with a brain like Mark’s, but who is Renjun to judge?

“Think he’ll start attending Haven?” Jaemin asks, hope lining his tone. It’s been years since someone new joined them at Haven High, and Renjun completely understands his excitement. To add to that, Jaemin is quite the flirt, and it’s been forever since he’s gotten a new kid to fluster. It used to be Mark, but he's decided to back off a bit since the older boy graduated.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, sighing as the familiar cool of their hallways sends goosebumps up the arms under his denim jacket. “What’s the point? My mom said he’s about our age… and there’s really no point in joining senior year when it’s already October.”

“True,” Jaemin replies. He then spies a certain person out of the corner of his eyes, and a mischievous smile grows on his lips. Without taking his eyes off the boy at the far end of the hallway, Jaemin says, “I’ll see you at lunch, ‘kay?” before leaving Renjun to walk to homeroom alone. 

As Renjun watches Jaemin’s back disappear in the crowd, the aches and soreness from the night before drops on him like an anvil. With no overly energetic boy to distract him from everything else happening to his body, new spots of pain start to bloom across his torso and legs as he tries his best to walk without showing how shitty he feels. 

For some odd reason, the base of his right thumb starts to throb, and he can’t help but press on it, the ache more irritating than painful. Unable to suppress it any further, Renjun latest out a loud groan, capturing the attention of several students within close proximity, as he realizes how horrible his handwriting is going to look when writing with a sore thumb.

☆★

Whispers and murmurs ripple throughout the chilly classroom Renjun is currently sat in. It was dead silent just minutes before, but something seems to have interested the bored students trapped in silence, reading a passage for Literature class. 

As hard as he tries to ignore it, Renjun can’t seem to shut them out. He even goes to cover his ears with his palms, letting the whispers drown into a blur, but curiosity kicks in. After years of training to survey every situation and ensuring that you aren’t in the dark at all, it’s hard to ignore something as tempting as highschool gossip.

Giving in, Renjun lifts his head. The teacher in the chair in front of the class looks seconds close to shutting the students up, but Renjun cannot miss the opportunity to find out what is happening. Luckily for him, he’s sat by the window at the back that peers out to the hallway. For reasons Renjun has never cared about enough to find out, their school makes sure to put windows  _ everywhere.  _

_ Probably so that no one can get away with anything,  _ Renjun has thought. 

He sees almost every head in front of him gazing out of the window in the front of the class, and as discreetly as possible, Renjun leans back in his chair to the point that the front two legs lift off the ground, just so that he can get a good view of what they could be staring at. He manages to get a glimpse at something dark moving on the other side of the glass and realizes that it’s the administration officer. 

And the only reason she ever walks around the school is when there’s a new kid.

_ So why is she standing outside a class full of seniors? _

Instantly, Renjun connects the dots. It  _ has  _ to be the new boy in Zone 2, right?

He is inches away from toppling backward over his chair when the administrative officer moves towards his window, bringing her guest along with her.

There’s only one person, and despite himself, Renjun’s heart skips a beat when he sees that it’s just a boy in a hoodie. He can’t see the face clearly yet as it’s just barely in his field of vision, but Renjun can only assume that it’s the new boy, and his parents are just too busy to come with him. That happens sometimes, with new freshmen and sophomores.

Renjun places the two front legs of his chair back down as the two make their way towards the center of the back window, and the boy’s eyes are suddenly snapped to his. It feels like the air in his lungs is sucked out.

_ Yangyang? _

☆★

Renjun paces in front of what he’s memorized to be Jaemin’s mechanics class about half an hour later, constantly peering around him to see if his familiar friend is there. 

_ Yangyang? _

If it weren’t for the fact that Yangyang’s parents have a special connection to the CEO of Mysti, Yangyang wouldn’t have even been considered for the Organization. They work in administration for the financial department, and no matter how romanticized a job at Mysti is, it’s not that great unless you’re at the top. 

Yangyang and his parents live in Zone 8, just on the edge of what many consider the ‘poor’ people of Central Haven. All this time, he had been attending Thornville High, which (in terms of ranking) is the fourth-best choice of high school to attend in the city. 

_ Since when could Yangyang afford a school like this? _

“Renjun?” Jaemin sounds genuinely shocked and  _ looks  _ genuinely shocked when he sees the boy pacing just a few feet away from the door of his class. As students filter out, he squeezes past several bodies to reach his friend, who hasn’t stopped pacing. “Hey,” Jaemin says, finally capturing Renjun’s attention.

“Hi,” Renjun manages, coming to a stop in front of Jaemin. 

“Are you okay?”

Renjun hesitates with his response. He realizes he should be happy that his old friend can finally attend a school like his, but he can’t help but be slightly suspicious. Why is Yangyang here now? Wouldn’t it have been better if he finished his education in the high school he’s been in for years instead?

“C’mon, maybe you just need some food,” Jaemin says, hiking his backpack further up his shoulder and gently taking Renjun’s arm, leading him in the direction of the cafeteria. 

Renjun doesn’t protest and lets his mind roam through any possible explanation as Jaemin takes care to drag him through the rapidly filling hallway. He finds himself thinking that perhaps Yangyang just strives to complete his education the best way he could possibly, but it just doesn’t seem right. Yangyang has always been a free soul, always doing things last minute and preferring to spend time with people, in the now, not thinking about his future.

Why would someone like Yangyang intentionally move away from his friends, for a better future?

Jaemin suddenly grunts, snapping Renjun out of his stupor. He’s now got a dark look in his eyes as he glares at the boy that just bumped into him, saying, “watch it, punk.”

He starts forward, but Renjun plants his feet firmly on the ground, making Jaemin shuffle back once more. “Are you okay?” he asks, eyes slanting in confusion.

Yangyang stares at Renjun, with no smile forming on his face. It’s odd, truly, and a shiver skips down Renjun’s spine. For a while, neither of them blink, and Renjun is tempted to walk away when suddenly Jaemin starts speaking again.

“Do you guys know each other or something?” Jaemin asks, grip tightening on Renjun’s bicep. Yangyang’s eyes travel down to Jaemin’s hand then back up to Renjun’s eyes. Then, his signature smile makes its way to his lips.

“Oh no,” Yangyang says apologetically, shooting the sweetest smile in Jaemin’s direction, “sorry for bumping into you. And for stopping you.” He turns back to Renjun. “You look like someone I know,” he finishes, bowing his head slightly as a means to say goodbye as he turns away.

Before he can stop himself, Renjun grabs Yangyang’s forearm, surprising all three of them. He catches Yangyang swallowing as he turns around, a smile still forced on his face.

“Can I help you?” He asks. There’s something in his eyes that comforts Renjun, something he’s gotten used to. It helps calm Renjun’s heart to see something familiar from Yangyang, and his breathing steadies. The look in his eyes is something Renjun has seen during missions, an attempt to reassure Renjun that there’s nothing out of the ordinary. A small glance at the truth behind Yangyang’s odd behavior.

“Uh, are you… new here?” Renjun stammers, slipping his hand away.

“Yeah,” Yangyang replies simply. He smiles once more at the two, and before anyone can add, he turns away. To Renjun’s eyes, Yangyang looks far from fitting in. He sticks out like a sore thumb in the swarm of students- an air of confidence about him as he walks alone.

But no one pays attention to him as he slips seamlessly into the crowd.

_ Just like he was trained to do.  _

Renjun shakes his head, then turns back to Jaemin, who stares at him, expressionless.

“What was that about?” Jaemin asks, pulling Renjun slightly to move towards the cafeteria again. “Are you sure you don’t know him?”

Renjun nods, not trusting himself with words. He feels Jaemin’s hand separate from him and knows that he understands that this is not something to push on. 

But it’s just a matter of time until Jaemin decides to start asking questions.

☆★

Renjun turns the heater in his car up as he nears his house, legs almost numb from the cold. The temperature has lowered a lot recently, and he takes mental note to start wearing more layers now. 

When he turns the corner that leads to his street, he sees a big, white moving van parked outside the house next door, and several men walking in and out of the house, boxes in hand. He tries not to keep an eye out for someone who might seem his age but doesn’t have to worry, as he only sees the same three men with grey polos and loose jeans go back and forth.

As he nears his gate, he notices how the double front doors of the house are wide open, and despite himself, he tries to get a peek into the house, but the lights are too dim for him to see. Renjun pulls a small, silver cuboid from the pocket of his backpack beside him, and as he slides his thumb across the cool surface, a wave of blue light ripples, signifying his access to the key. He then presses his thumb down, and with an affirmative vibration, the main gate to his house begins to slide open. 

Whilst it opens, he keeps his focus on the house next door, wondering if he’ll see the new boy.

Soon enough, the gate is hidden away, and he can’t stall outside for any longer, otherwise, he’ll end up being suspicious. He reluctantly presses the gas pedal once more and gradually turns his car 180 then backs up onto the porch. As the gate starts to close behind him, he gathers his things and his thoughts somehow return to his encounter with Yangyang.

He’s tempted to shoot Yangyang a text, but something tells him to wait until they meet again, whether it be in school the next day or in group training Wednesday night. Renjun tries to shake any possible suspicions or worries away, knowing fully well that he can trust Yangyang. They’ve been best friends for years now, and that says something.

_ He’ll explain. _

With that, he locks his car, the commotion next door a blur of noise in his ears. There are too many ideas and questions running through his head right now, and he knows that if he doesn’t get it under control soon, he’ll be stuck in a storm of uncertainty, and he can’t get anything done when that happens.

As Renjun places a hand on the oak colored door, the same blue wave of light ripples on the surface, scanning his handprint. It’s a hidden mechanism, and as soon as the automatic locks of the door whir and click to swing open just slightly, the light disappears, making it seem as if the door is merely a board of wood instead of a thick, industrial metal door. It’s one of the highest levels of security due to the fact that the door doesn’t even have a doorknob of any sort, and it reassures Renjun of his safety every day.

The door clicks shut behind him with a little push from his heel, and he pauses in front of the shoe closet. His mind is still spinning with suspicions, so he shuts his eyes and takes in a breath. He forces his mind to focus on his five senses just as his mother taught him: the pace of his breathing, the cold air on his skin, and the complete silence in his ears. 

He makes a mental schedule in his head, as one of the things that keep him grounded is organization. A fixed day. God knows how much Renjun  _ hates  _ not being sure of what comes next or being caught off guard.

He blinks his eyes open, the brightness not too harsh. He looks forward to spending another peaceful day alone at home, the rest of the day looking like a smooth path until the final tick of the clock before he falls asleep. 

Renjun goes through his homework and extra studies without a hitch, and he finally feels as if the whirl of thoughts in his head has finally settled. His curtains are pushed to the side, and his window is slightly ajar, letting the warmth of the sun upon him as well as the cool of the breeze. He's comfortable, calm, and feels in control. He's also blissfully unaware of the little bump in the road that is his day, waiting for him for when the sun sets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh i'm sorry it's probably hella boring right now BUT i'm really trying to get as much info about this new era in the first few chapters before the real drama starts !! i'm not the most experienced writer, and making a chaptered piece is really hard, so please bear with me :)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed, and hopefully i'll be back with another chapter soon <3


	5. princess

The clock in the wall glows a sea blue color in the dimly lit room, the digital second-hand ticking precariously close to the number 12, the minute hand reaching 6. Renjun stands from his white office chair and clasps his hands above his head to stretch out the kinks in his back. The spaces between his vertebrae loosen up and as the synovial fluid slides into the gaps, the satisfying popping sound elicits a tired sigh from Renjun.

He’d been working non-stop for about 3 hours now apart from bathroom breaks and snacks, but he’s still not done with all the work. Literature is kicking his ass, but luckily Chemistry isn’t too hard. Still, he follows his ‘schedule’ and leaves his desk.

Ever since his parents bought Renjun his first paint-by-number canvas, Renjun has been obsessed with the hobby. Even though he could easily draw something up himself, he has no time nowadays with a senior’s workload on top of protecting government officials. There are piles upon piles of unfinished pieces, and looking at them has always made Renjun feel unaccomplished, and since then, his parents suggested that he try something a little easier.

He grabs the 80 by 90-centimeter canvas leaning against the wall on the floor by his bed and lifts it to the dim lighting of the room, smiling softly at the irregular shapes filled with lavender and green. It’s supposed to be a river village, but so far he’s only managed to paint the bushes and plants that line the side of the water. When he looks closer, he can see the outline of various houses and docks, and a soft excitement blooms within him at the thought of completing the painting.

There are about four rows of color pots on the shelf beside his bed, and Renjun takes the second one, a row of six untouched paints, and leaves his room, the lights automatically turning off as he steps through the doorway.

He climbs the single flight of stairs that leads to the third floor of his house, then moves towards the balcony. Outside, there’s a glass jar with watered down paint streaking its sides and about a centimeter of water in it. He’d left the jar out there late last week by accident and had forgotten all about it for the past four days. 

_ Should probably bring that in. _

Renjun sets the canvas and paints down on the glass table by the jar and takes a moment to appreciate the view. Zone 2 is quite close to the city center, so the houses were built on hilly areas, but no one really minds it. The view you can get from your top balcony provides a sense of comfort and safety that even a really good therapist couldn’t get you. 

The brunet sighs as the breeze drifts through his loose flannel and seeps through the fabric of his sweatpants. It gets a lot colder this late in the evening, but he hadn’t bothered to bring a hoodie.

“- one more box!” A sudden shout pulls Renjun from his daydream. It’s coming from the next-door neighbor’s front yard, but to be honest, he doesn’t want to walk across the grass with his white socks on that much, so he simply ignores it and turns his attention to the painting. 

The sun is already beginning to set, and Renjun immediately knows he miscalculated the timing of his evening. 

_ Must’ve been the thinking. _

He shakes himself out of it before he can think about school again, and almost curls up on the sofa. Since the sun sets to the west, Renjun faces the now occupied house to get the best of the remaining sunlight. He’s always done this from the first evening he came out here, but usually, the house in front of him would be dead silent, quiet, dull, anything but filled with voices and noise and life. 

“New normal,” Renjun sighs, putting his canvas in his lap. He rests his back against the arm of the sofa, then picks up the smallest paintbrush on the table beside him. Then, he gets to work. 

A couple of minutes go by, the noise from the house next door fading into the background. Renjun allows his mind to clear, only focusing on the precision of his paintbrush. He stays like that, pots of paints gradually emptying as he mindlessly fills the gaps on the canvas for almost twenty minutes, twenty blissful minutes, when a voice starts to grow in volume next door. 

“-balcony? Yeah?” It sounds like a boy, and Renjun’s heart drops. He begs and hopes that the boy doesn’t want to be friendly, and keeps his focus trained on the canvas in his lap. He can feel the arm of the sofa slowly digging into the flesh of his back and is about to adjust when the glass doors on the opposite balcony slide open.

“Oh,” Renjun immediately hears, a smooth voice says. He pretends not to notice. “Hello.”

Renjun still doesn’t move. 

“Sorry, I’m just up here to check on the lights and stuff, don’t mind me,” the boy laughs dryly. When no response comes, he clears his throat and then heads towards the switches on the other side of the door. 

With his back towards the door, Renjun decides to take a peek at his new neighbor. He looks about his age (from what he can see, which, to be fair, isn’t much) and has honey-colored hair, not too long, but not too short. He looks like he’d be quite tall, but it might be the illusion of his ripped jeans. 

_ Hm. _

The boy turns, and Renjun snaps his vision back to the canvas, hoping that he’ll leave. For a couple of seconds, it seems like he’s going to disappear, but after not hearing the familiar whoosh of the slide doors, Renjun gives in to curiosity and looks up. 

The boy is still there. Staring. 

“Uh,” Renjun starts, instantly regretting the weak introduction, “Can I help you?” He raises a brow.

“Oh, um,” The boy stumbles over his words but manages a sheepish smile. “Not really. What’s your name?”

Renjun only stares back. He expects the boy to walk away this time, sick of Renjun’s silence, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. 

“Well,” the new boy starts, walking closer to his balcony railing, “I’m Donghyuck.”

“I didn’t ask,” Renjun deadpans, brush calm against his canvas.

“Now you know,” Donghyuck doesn’t miss a beat, and despite himself, Renjun looks up.

“Do you want something?” Renjun asks, watching as Donghyuck rests his arms on the railings. Their houses are quite close despite their size, so their voices carry across the space easily. Their street is also slightly hilly, with Renjun’s house being on the lower side, so it almost seems as if this new guy with odd confidence is towering over Renjun, and he does  _ not _ like it.

Donghyuck pauses, then simply responds, “nope.” 

Renjun tries not to reply, but his patience is starting to thin. “Then?”

Donghyuck pauses again as if thinking. Then he suddenly adds, “You know, you look like a princess.” 

Renjun’s jaw drops. He shuts it’s immediately, but genuinely can’t believe that the new kid isn’t intimidated, and even went to the lengths of calling him a  _ princess. _

“Princess?” He stops painting. 

“Yeah. Sitting at the top of your tower, all alone, painting peacefully with the breeze fluttering through your…” he trails off, taking in Renjun’s relaxed outfit, “...dress.”

Renjun scoffs and returns to his painting. 

“You’re really not gonna tell me your name?” Donghyuck asks, interrupting his second of silence. 

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Silence ensues. 

Renjun thinks that he’s finally gotten peace and quiet until the dreaded neighbor starts speaking again. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

Renjun involuntarily stops painting, then mentally reprimands himself for being lured in.

“C’mon, tell me. It’s the least you could do since you refuse to tell me your name.” Renjun looks up to see an innocent smile on Donghyuck’s lips, but irritation grows within him when he sees the cheeky glint in the boy’s eyes. 

Nevertheless, he plays along.

As he starts moving his paintbrush once more, Renjun replies, “yellow,” eyes on the canvas.

“Yellow?” Donghyuck repeats in disbelief.

Renjun looks up, a bored look on his face. “Yeah. Why?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t seem like a color someone like  _ you  _ would like.”

Renjun scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Donghyuck shrugs, shifting his vision to the sky beyond the houses for a moment. “You seem so… tough. Or at least, you try to be. And you seem really closed off. I was expecting a reply like blue or black or something.” Renjun can’t help but smile just a little at the comment, despite himself.

“Cookies or brownies?” Donghyuck asks.

_ Another random question? _

“Brownies….” 

“What’s your favorite type of chocolate?” 

“Dark. What’s with the sudden interview?” 

Donghyuck lets out a laugh, a sound somewhere between evil and innocent. “Just wanna get to know who I’m gonna be living next door to for… who knows how long.”

Renjun nods, trying to seem as disinterested as he feels, before finally returning to his painting. 

The weather is perfect. It’s cool, maybe a little colder than he’d like, but it’s still nice. The sun is more than halfway past the horizon, and the light casts a dark gold-ish glow on everything. There’s finally a moment of pure, unadulterated silence, and even though he knows there’s another person standing right there, appreciating the sunset with him, he isn’t too bothered.

_ Maybe a neighbor isn’t too bad. _

“I’ll be honest,” Donghyuck starts again, voice pitched a little too high for Renjun’s liking.

_ Nevermind. _

It’s clear from his trailing sentence that he’s baiting Renjun, somehow knowing that Renjun is naturally curious and suspicious. And unfortunately, Renjun gives in. He looks up at the boy once more. 

“What.”

Donghyuck smiles, but Renjun can feel the flames of frustration starting to burn. That smile, so mischievous, so confident, is starting to piss him off.

“Well, you see, I’m new, and even though we live in a nice place like this life isn’t… easy.” Donghyuck props his chin on his arm, leaning into the banister more. “Do you know a place I could work at and make money?”

Renjun doesn’t answer. He takes a moment to calm his nerves, knowing that if he were to answer straight away, he’d probably just say no. 

Then again, what’s stopping him?

“No.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Don’t lie,” He rolls his eyes, the smile slipping off his features. “You’ve probably lived here all your life like everyone else. You have  _ got  _ to know somewhere.”

“What if I haven’t?”

“Huh?”

Renjun sighs, and gently places his canvas down on the table beside the water pot. He sits up and crosses his legs like a toddler in kindergarten. 

“What if I haven’t lived here all my life?”

Donghyuck hesitates, then shrugs. “Then I apologize for assuming,” he says, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

Silence falls upon them once more, but Donghyuck still doesn’t move. Renjun feels that, despite the new kid’s cheeky and playful exterior, there’s a lot more going on in his brain, and it’s sparked some interest in the government agent within him.

“Mick’s Diner,” Renjun says, breaking the quiet for the first time.

“A diner?” Donghyuck says, a single eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. It’s the best chance you’ve got at getting a job that pays a decent amount of money.” Renjun picks up his canvas again and reverts to his previous state, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they have a position open. You better hurry.” Renjun watches a small smile reach Donghyuck’s lips, and picks up his brush.

“Are they open now?” 

Renjun chuckles softly despite himself. “They’re always open. Well, almost always.” 

Donghyuck nods, a genuine look of hope and joy in his eyes. A little reminder makes its way into Renjun’s head to not assume one’s personality off of one meeting. You never know what they’re really like. Or where they came from. Or what they’re going through.

“Cool, thanks, I genuinely didn’t expect help from a princess.” 

The little sprout of sympathy in Renjun dies a gruesome death within a second.

“Please don’t let that stick,” he whines, just a little too loudly.

Donghyuck laughs again, but it sounds more genuine. “Too late."

Renjun groans, and shoots Donghyuck a glare, but instead of backing off Donghyuck justs laughs again, the light sound sounding like the warmth from a calm fire.

“See you around, Princess!”

And Renjun can hear the stupid wink that comes with the nickname.

☆★

Later that night, once Renjun has finished eating dinner with his father, the sound of his front door unlocking echoes through the front area.

“Mom?” Renjun calls out, walking out of the dining area. His dad trails close behind but keeps walking to sit in the living room instead of turning to reach the front door.

“It’s me,” she replies, moon glowing behind her. Tonight, she’s come home in her staff t-shirt for the Organization. Her and Renjun’s father alternate between monitoring the Organization training as well as any missions that might come in, and attending meetings as well as completing projects as part of the board of directors.

“What’s that?” Renjun asks, spying an out-of-place box in her hand.

“I’m not too sure myself, to be honest. I bumped into the new boy who lives next door outside the gate as I was driving in, and he gave this to me.” She hands the white, cardboard box to Renjun, who takes it carefully as she slips her shoes off.

“Although,” Renjun’s mother adds, stuffing her boots into the closet. “There’s a little card stuck on the side of it. Says ‘Princess’ on the side? I know that’s not for me.” 

Renjun spins the box, and sure enough, there’s a piece of folded paper, messily stuck to the box with a piece of tape, the nickname ‘Princess’ scrawled on the front.

_ Holy shit. _

Renjun turns to move to the kitchen and places the box on the island. He hears his parents greet each other in the living room and decides it’s a safe time to open the box. 

As a trained agent, countless scenarios pop into his mind. Perhaps the boy is an agent too, but for the opposing side, the ones who want to burn the country into chaos. Maybe he’s just a crazed serial killer. Or maybe he’s so desperate for money that he’s going to threaten Renjun into giving him loads. 

So, Renjun takes one peek behind him to make sure his parents aren’t coming anywhere near, and opens the box, expecting a bomb, or a gun, or even a burner phone.

Only to smell literal  _ heaven. _

Sitting there, on a golden square, are sixteen brownies, rich and fancy looking, drizzled with dark chocolate.

Confused, Renjun remembers the note on the side, and rips it off, opening it frantically. There are only a few words on there, and it leaves a funny feeling in Renjun’s chest.

_ ‘Enjoy the brownies, Princess. Sorry I couldn’t find any yellow ribbon to top it all off with. ;)’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 i hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> stay safe, healthy and happy everyone !!


	6. just tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi???? it has been forever and i sinerely apologize but if you're reading this then thank you !!! thank u very very much :)
> 
> i started college a couple of month ago, and it has been kicking my ASS and it's only because of the pandemic that i had to go home, making me feel like i had more time to myself so i wrote this !!
> 
> my country was doing so well with the pandemic until recently, and now everything's getting worse so i am Stress!! Ing!! Out!! but that's ok because this fic has my back <3
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter <3
> 
> p.s.: i tried checking for mistakes but i hope everything is ok and makes sense..... it's been a while.

Renjun slides his ballistic vest over his head, the weight immediately dropping on his shoulders. It’s chilly in the changing room, but he ignores it, not bothering to find a thicker black top. The sleeves are long, but the material is tight on his torso and airy, making it feel invisible on his skin.

He’s been exhausted the whole day. Renjun knew that it wasn’t going to be a good day the moment he opened his eyes and felt a minor headache forming behind his eyes. Then came school. He was grateful that Jaemin had noticed how tired he was, and only had to go through his friend asking him what could be wrong once, before they just spent time together in silence. 

Then after school.

Renjun had almost completely forgotten about the new boy next door.

Almost. 

But when he pulled up into the driveway, his eyes unintentionally passed over the neighbor’s house, where he saw a clear view of Donghyuck through their living room window, giggling as a little girl threw a little red ball at him from one side of a mound of boxes. The sight of Donghyuck looking so… genuine left something reeling in Renjun’s mind that he absolutely cannot stand.

He’s never cared for anyone new. Not unless he’s forced to. So what is it about this boy that is so fascinating?

“Hey,” a voice comes from behind him, making him turn. “You almost ready?”

Renjun nods gratefully at Kun, who smiles at him gently before slipping out of the changing room, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the empty silence. 

Well, almost empty.

“What’s on your mind?” A sink suddenly turns on, the sound of rushing water surprising Renjun. When he closes his locker, he spies Ten washing his hands, the whirling pattern of his self done tattoo visible under his thin top sleeve. 

“Nothing,” Renjun says. Although it comes out like a question, due to the confusion that he can’t seem to hide.

_ Why would he talk to me? Voluntarily? _

“Look, I know you’re probably surprised that I’m talking to you outside fights, but I had a…  _ revelation _ … last night. If that’s the right word.”

Renjun arches his brow as Ten heads to the exit, tightening the waist of his own vest. 

“Explain,” he says, intrigued.

Ten rolls his eyes, stopping short of the door. “Must I? Can’t you just say ‘that’s great Ten, thanks for not being an asshole anymore’ and call it a day?”

Renjun shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips. Ten sighs and nods his head in the direction of the door, signalling Renjun to follow him out.

As soon as they leave the changing room, the bright lights behind them turn into a dim yellow- a power saving mode. The automatic doors slide shut with a whir, and soon the two are heading towards the big elevator that leads to the training room.

Renjun peers at the digital watch on his hand and sees that they’ve still got about ten minutes to spare until training is scheduled to start. He already knows they’ll be the last ones there though, because what kind of agent are you if you don’t go to training early?

“I just think…” Ten starts as the elevator door slides shut, “what’s the point of being so cold if I’m going to be stuck with you guys anyways.” His tone is as monotone as ever, but there’s a lilt to it that rings sincerity, and Renjun can’t help but smile a little. And Ten catches it. “Don’t think I’m getting soft you little shit.”

Renjun shrugs, the smile growing bigger. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Whatever.” The elevator descends in silence, until the doors open and they get a clear shot of the long hallway leading to the East door. Ten surprisingly starts another conversation. “I forgot to tell you that Yukhei was looking for you in the changing room earlier.”

Renjun’s focus snaps to his teammate as he steps out, acting as if the words mean nothing. For a while he just stares at Ten’s back until the doors beep, signalling their closing.

“What? When?” He stumbles to catch up with him. 

“You came pretty late, so you didn’t see it.”

“What do you mean ‘didn’t see’?” The door ahead is growing in size, and Renjun knows he only has a limited amount of time to prepare for whatever interactions might come.

“Well, he didn’t explicitly say he was looking for you. But he wouldn’t stop switching between staring at the main door and your locker. Hendery had to snap him out of it so that he’d actually put some clothes on. It was funny, really.”

Renjun’s heart sinks. He already knows that at some point in the evening, Yukhei is going to want to speak to him. Again. And God he is way too tired to deal with that.

A familiar laugh rings from the warehouse like room, and Renjun’s heart manages to sink even lower. Yangyang hasn’t appeared in school again since Monday, which, to be fair, was only two days ago. Still. Renjun finds it a little odd that Yangyang was wandering around the halls like he belonged and then never came back.

“You okay?” Ten asks. Renjun is instantly snapped away from his thoughts, the feeling of Ten sounding  _ concerned  _ not settling well with him. Ten scoffs at the shock in his eyes. “If you’re gonna stare at me like I’ve grown another pair of eyes every time I’m nice then maybe I’ll rethink my choice.”

“No, no,” Renjun rushes to say. Still, he sighs as they reach the door. It’s not open for them, but soon it will be. He waits for Ten to open it, and to catch the eyes of two boys he’s so used to, yet not used to at all. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

But the door stays shut.

“Okay. Just… one more thing.” Ten says. Renjun doesn’t say anything, waiting for his teammate to continue. “If you, you know, ever need to spill your guts out to someone who doesn’t give a shit, I’m open for it.” Ten still doesn’t smile. In fact, Renjun thinks that he’s never seen Ten smile. But the honesty is there. He really is willing to listen to Renjun.

“Thanks.” Renjun says nodding. An awkward sort of silence fills the space between them, so Ten opens the door, and Renjun prepares for the training ahead. 

☆★

“Again! One. Two,” Taeyong’s counting echoes against the thick walls of the training room, and Renjun’s forearm mimics a strike against Xiaojun’s torso. He continues through the motions, until it’s time for him to be thrown against the sweat-slicked blue mat beneath him. He braces for impact, seconds before he feels his legs lifted off the ground, and then the wind almost knocked out of him, again.

“Good.” Taeyong says, a smile playing on his lips as he types something into a tablet in hand. Meanwhile, the pairs all stick out hands for each other, pulling their friends up.

“You good?” Xiaojun asks, pulling Renjun up. The younger groans, nodding, beyond exhausted. 

They don’t have training often anymore, but they’ve still got to have some regular sparring and simulations in order to prepare for any real missions. Nowadays, they only have training on Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Besides that, they’re free to do what they want.

Most of them are recharged after two days' rest, but not Renjun. To add to his inability to stop thinking, he’s been doing individual boxing practice in his basement, which his parents had transformed into a mini version of the training room at Mysti. It’s stocked with a gym, a sparring area and a closet of weapons, but Renjun only has access to two of those things.

“When you’re 25, we’ll give you a pass card,” his mother had said. Renjun thought that he should have some practice with the weapons, but his parents argued that he already got enough time with them under the Organization seniors supervision.

Renjun peers up at a drone floating silently near the corner of the room. It’s pointed right at the area they’ve set the mats up in, and Renjun knows that his Mom and a group of the Organization’s best senior members are on the other side, settling whatever she needs to settle for their group.

“You seem a lot more sore than you should be.” Xiaojun says, stepping off the mat. Renjun only watches, mind only half-focused. “You coming or not?”

Renjun blinks, willing himself to concentrate. “Where?”

“Taeyong said we’ve got a break…” Xiaojun’s brows are now furrowed in concern. “Did anything happen at school?”

“No, no,” Renjun says, forcing a smile. “Nothing happened. It’s just been a weird past two days.”

“I’m gonna assume you did some individual training instead of resting too then,” Xiaojun says, brushing his forearm across his sweaty brow. Renjun nods, a small laugh escaping him. 

“You know me so well,” Renjun says as Xiaojun throws his arm across the younger’s sore shoulders.

By the water station, the other six boys have gathered, paper cups in hand, silently downing the liquid as their skin glows with sweat under the blinding white lights. 

Renjun and Xiaojun are the last ones to reach, and Renjun is grateful for the blond’s close proximity because as soon as they reach, both Yukhei and Yangyang are staring at him. He’d say that Xiaojun’s presence is perfect to avoid both of them, but in reality, he knows that as soon as Xiaojun steps away his safety is compromised.

“Want me to get a cup for you?” Xiaojun asks, pulling away. Renjun nods and as Xiaojun pulls away, Yangyang bolts from his seat on the floor next to Ten, and rushes over to Renjun.

“I know you have questions-” Yangyang starts, before Renjun shushes him with a hand on his shoulder. “Uh-”

“No no,” Renjun tuts, closing his eyes, “you be quiet. I will ask the questions when I want to ask.” When he opens his eyes, Xiaojun is handing him a cup of ice cold water which he takes with a small ‘thank you’. He downs the water in one go, the sharp cold shooting down his throat, and the tension in his body fades a little.

“Do you, wanna, you know…” Renjun shocks himself by laughing, not used to Yangyang sounding so  _ awkward  _ after being best friends for years. 

“Talk? Yeah. Start.”

“I thought you said you wanted to ask the questions?” Before Renjun can respond, three booming claps echo in their ears. 

“Alright, break time’s over, we’re moving onto the next combo before we move to the simulation,” Taeyong walks back in from the North entrance, smiling kindly. He swipes something on his tablet and reads, “new pairs will be Kun with Hendery, Ten with Sicheng, Xiaojun with Lucas and Renjun with Yangyang. On the mats!” 

The eight of them place their cups by the pushed aside container nearest to their break area and then head to their respective mats.

“Okay,” Renjun starts, as he lifts his arms into two fists. Yangyang mirrors his actions, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“It’s true. I’ll be attending Haven.”

“Number ones strike. One!” Taeyong shouts.

Renjun goes to strike across Yangyang’s torso as instructed, but Yangyang grabs his arm with an iron grip before he can make contact.

“Why though?”

“Two!” Another shout from Taeyong, who is now walking between the mats. 

“My mom,” Yangyang’s palm pushes against Renjun’s shoulder, “said she spoke to the CEO’s,” a heavy breath escapes his lungs as Renjun strikes his wrist, and he fights the instinct to bring his arm down.

“When?”

“Three!” 

“Two weeks ago?” Yangyang ducks under Renjun’s relatively calm right hook, “They asked to talk.”

“Okay, then?” Renjun puffs as Yangyang pushes him, hard, making him crash backwards on the mat. 

“Four!” 

“They offered to help with school payments, and asked if I wanted to go to Haven,” Yangyang goes to punch Renjun’s face, but ends up striking the blue underneath instead. 

Renjun rolls out of the way, and is up on his feet in an instant as Taeyong shouts, “Five!” 

“Why?” Renjun curls his fingers into fists again.

Yangyang shrugs, blowing a strand of hair out of his eye. “My mom said something about doing ‘good work’.”

“Six!” Renjun intercepts Yangyang’s incoming left hook.

“And they’re friends,” Yangyang says, pulling his arm away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Seven!”

“Uh,” Yangyang goes to kick Renjun’s torso, too focused to answer.

“Eight!”

Renjun slides under the leg and hooks a flexed foot behind Yangyang’s standing knee, then proceeds to curl his leg in, which knocks Yangyang back. Before his back hits the floor, Renjun is standing again. As Taeyong’s voice stops echoing, Renjun presses a knee to Yangyang’s throat, one hand on the ground and another behind his head, ready to strike.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Yangyang chokes out. The pressure Renjun is putting on his throat isn’t strong, but he still struggles to speak under Renjun’s knee.

“Hm,” Renjun stands up quickly, and sticks a hand out.

“Did it work?” Yangyang takes his hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it did,” Renjun manages a small smile, still a little confused. But Yangyang’s smile is so genuine that he forgets about it.

“I know it seems pointless, but I just wanted to spend at least part of my final year in high school with my best friend.”

“Switch!” Taeyong says. The two swap spots on the mat and pull their fists up again, crouching.

“You haven’t been coming.”

“Faster this time. Ready?” Renjun stays silent as the others, including Yangyang, shout in affirmation.

“There’s barely any days of school left for the term, genius. I’m starting next year.”

A little part of Renjun is thankful. He’s excited too, to have Yangyang there. But there’s another part in him that has way too many questions, the part that constantly seeks the full story, which he suspects Yangyang isn’t giving.

“One!” 

Renjun grabs Yangyang’s arm as it comes towards his body. He tries his hardest to focus, but he can’t seem to clear his mind of all the questions. 

“We can talk more about it later.” Yangyang’s voice sounds almost muffled, but Renjun’s mind somehow registers it, and it calms him a little. It’ll be better to talk when they’re not attacking each other with increasing speed. 

“Two!” 

Still, Renjun’s mind doesn’t clear. He thinks it’s the exhaustion. 

Suddenly Renjun feels something hard connect with his left cheek- right where his cut is healing nicely. It’s still slightly bruised, but he’s been able to cover it today, making it look a lot more healed than it is.

“Holy shit,” Yangyang’s voice is still a blur, and Renjun is confused at first, until a tingle starts up on his cheek.

“Renjun? You good?” Taeyong is by their mat in an instant, hands open as if ready for Renjun to collapse.

Renjun is still slightly confused, but he feels the tingle grow into a small throb. He thinks it’ll stop there, but the throbbing grows to the point where it feels like his heart is in his face. He scrunches his eyes shut, but it doesn’t slow the pain. It’s starting to grow hotter and hotter, and now there’s a fire on Renjun’s face and his body doesn’t have enough energy to numb the pain.

Something warm trickles down his face. He opens his eyes and sees Yangyang standing right in front of him, hand cupped under his chin, eyes full of worry. 

Then something dark red drips onto the mat.

“...jun? Can you hear me?” Renjun turns slowly to Taeyong. Yukhei is standing behind him, and the amount of concern in his eyes somehow makes Renjun’s face hurt even more. “Get off the mat, we’re gonna go get you washed up.” 

The mumbling around him clears a little, and he blinks, hard. On a normal day, he’d be completely fine, but with the previous injury being broken open and the lack of energy in him, he feels uncharacteristically weak.

“I’m fine, I can go,” he says, his voice sounding far-off, like it’s not his own. He steps off the mat, surprisingly stable, and he registers the soft sound of footsteps following him, but he doesn’t bother to tell them not to follow. He just heads out of the North door and into the bathroom, hand on his face to catch the blood.

No one rushes in after him. His cheeks flame in embarrassment, but he tries to push that feeling aside as he switches on the sink to its coldest setting and grabs a handful of paper towels. He dunks two of them under the stream of water, soaking them, then squeezing a little excess water out before wiping the blood that’s rapidly drying on his cheeks. He stays far from the wound for now, not ready to feel the inevitable sting that follows.

Already, he feels better. As the slightly rough texture of the paper towels streak across his skin, he feels the hot pain on his face dim just slightly. When he pulls the wad away, it’s decorated with dark red and his mother’s concealer.

“Jeez,” he mutters, looking at himself in the mirror. It’s a pitiful sight. Dark under eyes and a half covered bruise. Streaks of blood and a random patch of clear skin. Above all, it’s the sad exhaustion in his eyes that makes him grimace at his own reflection.

“Renjun?” His moment of quiet is broken by a low voice, which, out of all the voices he could possibly encounter, is the one he wants least right now. “Jeez, that looks a lot worse than it did just now.”

“Yukhei?” Renjun says tiredly. “Why are you here?”

Yukhei shrugs, a small first aid kit in hand. “Taeyong told me to give these to you. Well, he told Ten. But Ten complained and asked me to do it because I was ‘closer’-” he makes quotation marks with his fingers, “- to the kit, so I did it. Taeyong seems kinda stressed.”

Renjun sighs.  _ Ten, you son of a bitch. _

“Fine. Gimme that, please,” he strains, one hand out, the other hand propping him up as he leans over the sink. He hopes with all his heart that he won’t have to make conversation with Yukhei in the few seconds that he’s here. “You can go now.”

Yukhei hands him the kit, but doesn’t move. “Can we… talk?”

“Now?” Renjun clicks the first aid kit lid open, unintentionally flipping it open too harshly that it makes a loud crack noise against the black, marble sink.

“When else would we?” 

“I dunno, maybe when I’m not in a serious amount of pain?” Renjun peels open an alcohol swab pack, but doesn’t take the swab out just yet. He turns to Yukhei, irritation sharp in his eyes.

“What, you mean you won’t be in pain later? When we’re in the changing room with six other dudes?” 

Renjun goes to slide the swab out of its pouch. He hates to admit it, but Yukhei has a point.

“Fine.” Yukhei opens his mouth to say something, but Renjun interrupts him with a hand up. “Just know that I’m slightly on edge and in a lot of pain right now.”

“So you’ll be irritable. Got it.” Yukhei’s voice remains devoid of any emotion, and Renjun thanks him mentally, because lack of emotion will make it easier to talk.

Not that they can avoid the topic of a certain  _ emotion _ in this conversation.

Renjun slips the swab out of the pounch, the sour smell of hospital hitting his nose immediately. He desperately wants to avoid having to swipe it across his cut, but knows that it’ll need to happen before it dries out.

“You’re a confusing guy, you know?” Yukhei laughs humorlessly. “For the past couple of months, it’s been a growing confusion. All up ‘til that moment post training last week. I thought I knew what I wanted, and what you wanted. But then you just… didn’t.”

Renjun shuts his eyes, letting his head drop. He can tell Yukhei wants to say more, so he doesn’t say anything for the moment. 

“You stopped talking to me, actively started ignoring me, then you didn’t. So suddenly. And it was almost normal.” Renjun blinks his eyes open staring into the mirror. Then, his vision shifts to the left, where he sees Yukhei looking right at him through the same mirror. 

“Listen-”

“So I thought we’d get somewhere in the elevator. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk first and went straight to the ki-”

“Yukhei!” Renjun can’t stop himself from slamming his hands on the marble, the alcohol swab barely missing contact with the cool surface. “I know I’ve been confusing, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.  _ I’m  _ confused.”

“What is there to be confused about?” Yukehi asks. Renjun can tell he tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but there was a hint of desperation and  _ fuck  _ Renjun feels guilty.

“I’m just… I don’t know, okay? I don’t know about,” he gestures between the two of them with one hand, “-this. I thought I did, but I don’t. I really don’t. Can I just… please,  _ please, _ have some time? To think. Just, let me think.”

Silence washes over the two of them, and for a second Renjun is afraid. He’s loved Yukhei, he  _ loves _ Yukhei, but the only love he’s sure of is the platonic one. He can’t deny that for the past few months he’s started feeling different. A little skip in his heart every time Yukhei brushed by him. The easy smile every time Yukhei did something. The urge to be with Yukhei all the time, no matter where, no matter when.

Until the kiss.

“Okay.” Yukhei says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, yeah, I’ll give you some time.”

Renjun hates the sadness that droops Yukhei’s shoulders slightly. The disappointment that makes his eyes look like when he would mess up his combos when he was fourteen.

Yukhei nods, sighing. “I’ll, just, get going.” Unable to say anything, Renjun just turns away from him, staring at the drying alcohol swab in his hand. He can’t bring himself to look up, or move in the slightest, and his muscles start tensing. It comes to a point where it’s almost painful, when he finally hears the door swing open. Only when it clicks shut softly does he let himself relax.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbles. He swipes the alcohol swab in his hand over the back of his other hand, only to realize it’s dried out. He fights the sudden urge to scream in frustration, and rips another pack open, this time not hesitating to wipe at his cheek.

The wipe is so fast and painless, that at first Renjun thinks he missed the cut. But, wait, it can’t be. He looks up in the mirror and sees the wound perfectly clean of surrounding blood.

Then the stinging starts.

Just like Yangyang’s punch, it takes all of his energy to try to ignore the pain. He digs the nails of his left hand into his palm, upper teeth digging into his lower lip. He brings the swab up to his face again and dabs at the wound gently, hating the pain that he feels. Renjun turns and leans against the marble, not wanting to see the disgusting weakness so clearly painted across his features. He hates the pain.

Especially the one in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we goooooo another chapter complete !
> 
> I'm not entirely sure what the point of this chapter was but yeah . i hope it was ok??
> 
> i have exams coming up, and with this whole situation I have no idea when I'll have the time to write again.... but I'll try write another chapter before the year ends haha......
> 
> anyways thank u very very much for reading !! i really appreciate every one of you reading this and hope that the rest of 2020 doesn't suck ass for you <3 take care loves !!


	7. fresh air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a soft talk in the later hours of the night

Renjun spends most of the night alone. When he arrived home, his dad had shoved a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, claiming that his mother had told him that Renjun wasn’t feeling well at training. He hadn’t eaten much afterward, but he did sneak a slice of the brownies Donghyuck got him earlier in the week. Every time he opens the box, he can’t help but let his thoughts drift to the few times he’s seen Donghyuck. 

And each time he shakes himself out of it, trying to convince himself that it’s not worth his time.

He now lies in bed, the lights off, leaving the blue glow of his clock as a nightlight. His half-empty mug is on the bedside table beside him, the beverage now cold, and you’d think he’d be passed out considering how tired he’s been all day, but he isn’t. 

He would go down to the basement, but his dad locked it up and took Renjun’s key away for ‘the sake of his health’.

He would go on a walk, but he doesn’t think he has  _ that  _ much energy left in him. 

Renjun, being the good student he is, had completed any work that he needed to be done before heading to training earlier. There really isn’t anything Renjun can do right now besides stare at his ceiling, counting sheep until his eyes eventually drift shut.

_ Unless. _

Renjun sits up, the duvet shifting on his legs. Despite only wearing shorts and a thin sweater, there’s a sudden urge within him to go outside. The nights are close to freezing now, even though it’s only late October.

“Late October…” Renjun says aloud, gathering his duvet in his hands. His lips bunch to one side as he tries to think of a possible reason on why his brain decided to isolate the thought. Whilst doing that, he manages to scrunch the duvet up roughly in the shape of a ball, leaving half of his thighs and the rest of his legs exposed to the soft blowing of the air conditioner.

As goosebumps ripple across his skin, he steps off the bed and moves to the door, duvet now wrapped around his shoulders. It’s heavy, and highly inconvenient for walking upstairs, yet he still drags the thick blanket out of the door with him, and into the darkness of the family hall. His parents room’s door remains shut as he treads across the space in his fluffy socks, and he makes out their voices talking softly downstairs.

“Renjun hon? Is that you?” Renjun winces. Of course, they’d be able to tell when he’s up, no matter how quiet he is.

“Yeah… it’s me,” he replies, looking about three times smaller than he is wrapped in thick warmth, with only a gap to show his mostly bare legs. 

“You okay?” His mother calls. 

“I’m okay, just gonna go get fresh air outside.” He crosses his fingers that they won’t say anything about it.

There’s a pause followed by a thought-filled silence. Then, “Okay. Don’t be out for too long or you’ll get sick.”

“Roger that,” Renjun says, eliciting a content sigh from his mother. 

When he heads up, duvet gliding behind him like a cape, he feels his heart warm. His mother is his best friend, and so is his dad. He’s so lucky to have been taken in by two best friends turned lovers, who broke down his walls and made him who he is today.

Renjun slides the door open, immediately being hit with the October night chill. Shivers trickle across his skin as he shuts the door behind him, clutching the blanket around him even tighter. To his surprise, there are lights on outside and not just the street ones. 

He stops in his tracks right outside the sliding door, the lights of his own balcony still off. He knows that as soon as they’re on, he’ll attract the attention of his new neighbor, and his chance for peace and quiet will be lost. He starts to regret coming out to the balcony at all, reprimanding himself for not just staying in his room and-

“Renjun?” A voice comes. Renjun winces. 

_ Can’t ever catch a break. _

He flips the switch beside the sliding doors and sends Donghyuck what he hopes looks like a genuine smile. “Hi.”

“What are you doing out here?” Unlike last time, Donghyuck is sitting on a chair that Renjun assumes he put there whilst moving in throughout the past few days. He hasn’t spoken to Donghyuck since then, but he can see eye bags that he doesn’t recall being there before, and a droop in his shoulders. 

“Getting some fresh air. You?” Renjun flops onto his sofa with a whoomp, swinging his legs up and curling them in so that he’s only a head on a mound of blanket. He catches Donghyuck letting out a soft laugh at the sight of him under the warm, yellow lights of his own balcony but doesn’t say anything.

Donghyuck pulls the wooden armchair he’s sitting on near the edge of the balcony so that he can see Renjun through the gap in the metal banister. The cushion he sits in looks thin, but fairly comfortable, as he curls his legs in to mirror Renjun. Minus the blanket.

“Called my dad,” he says, smiling softly. 

Renjun’s head tilts to one side in question. “He doesn’t live with you?”

“No,” Donghyuck gazes off at the night sky, and the agent in Renjun tells him that this isn’t a conversation to continue. He doesn’t mind it though, really. After all, this is only the second time they’ve ever spoken. Still, something in him urges him to keep talking to this boy.

“Did you get the job?” 

Donghyuck turns to him. “Hm?”

“You went to Mick’s right? To get a job?”

Some tension is visibly released from Donghyuck’s shoulders, and Renjun mentally pats himself on the back for switching up the conversation so smoothly. 

“I did. Thanks for that by the way.” Renjun smiles up at him, and he continues with, “I ended up getting it immediately because they needed staff. I met a guy too who looked nice enough. Although, I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. His name is Mark. You know him?”

Renjun can’t help the giggle that erupts from him. “Mark Lee? As in, puppy eyes, kinda built but really cute, Mark Lee?”

“Um, yeah. I think so?”

“Yeah, I know him. A nice guy… if you’re nice to him.”

The conversation drifts to a close with a hum of recognition on Donghyuck’s part. For a couple of minutes, it’s peaceful. Just the two of them, comfortable in their silence, staring up at the starless sky. It’s not the first time Renjun wishes he could see the stars. But living in the city never gave him the chance. With all the pollution and high-rise buildings, it’s a wonder they can still see the moon.

“My parents are divorced.”

The statement is so sudden, that Renjun doesn’t even register it at first.

“Pardon?”

Donghyuck laughs tiredly. “I called my dad because he doesn’t live with us.”

“Oh…” Renjun has no idea how to respond. Sure, Jaemin’s parents have issues and they’ve talked about them, but that’s as far as he gets with ‘broken’ families. Him and his tiny circle of friends are lucky to all have parents who are still together, but….

“Sorry, that was probably really random.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes at himself, dropping his legs to the ground. There’s a genuine smile playing on his lips, but it lacks the cheekiness that was there three days ago. 

“It’s all good.”

“He’s actually helping us with the house. Even though he and my mom don’t like each other that much, he’s well enough off that he can send us enough money to be able to afford a place as comfortable as this. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t drop all this on you right now,” he adds apologetically. “You’re probably really tired. Hey, what happened to your face?” He asks in a rush, leaning forward as if he’ll get a clearer look.

“Oh, nothing,” Renjun says, instinctively pulling the duvet around him tighter. He fights the urge to press a cold finger to the adhesive bandage on his face. “Just hurt myself a little.” 

Donghyuck sucks air in through his teeth, “looks more than ‘a little’ to me.”

Renjun shrugs. “And don’t worry about telling me all this. I can tell you wanna get it out. I’m more than happy to listen.” 

Donghyuck smiles at him, and he can’t help but smile back. A warm feeling swirls in Renjun’s stomach, and at first, he basks in it, until it hits him in si realization that the last time he felt this was with Yukhei. He feels his smile slip off of his face, and that same heavy feeling in his chest that he felt in the bathroom earlier returns until-

“You look hilarious, by the way.” 

Renjun snaps back to Donghyuck, who is now grinning with growing mischief.

“Hm?”

“Yeah. Like a bodiless head. Floating.” And just like that, the heavy feeling is lifted. An unexpected burst of laughter from within Renjun bubbles up until he can’t hold it in anymore, and frankly, he didn’t think he’d had the energy for it. Soon the two of them are giggling over how Renjun probably looks like he’s twelve in the little bundle he's in, and the warm feeling from earlier makes its way back.

A few moments after their laughter dies down, Donghyuck’s balcony door slides open with a whoosh. Since the door is at the far end of the balcony, Renjun can’t see who it is, but in a matter of seconds, there’s a little girl rushing into Donghyuck’s arms, pouting and shivering.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing up?” The softness in Donghyuck’s voice almost makes Renjun melt.

“Can’t sleep. Why are you outside Yuckie?” Renjun giggles at the nickname, and can tell by the way Donghyuck winces that his new friend is probably blushing right now. 

“Talking with a new friend. Kimi, this is Princess. Princess, Kimi.” He says, pulling the little girl into his arms. She waves shyly at Renjun, and he’s so caught up in how cute she is that he doesn’t feel bothered by the use of his own nickname. 

“Come inside, Yuckie. Let’s play before bed!” She hops up and down with Donghyuck hoodie-clad arms still around her little body to keep her warm.

“Okay, okay. Only for a while.” He kisses the top of her head. “Just give me a moment, okay? I’ll be in soon.” With that, the little girl runs off, giggling excitedly to herself. 

“How old is she?” Renjun asks as soon as the door slides shut. 

“Four. But ever since she’s memorized her birthday, she keeps reminding me that she’s five in December.” Renjun chuckles softly, and they drift off into silence once more.

“Well,” Donghyuck starts, standing up. “I should go in. She needs to sleep soon and Lord knows my mother has enough to deal with.” Automatically Renjun stands up too, duvet still tight around him. “It’s been nice talking, Princess. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his lips as he says, “Whatever,  _ Yuckie _ ,” intentionally drawing out the name.

Donghyuck laughs wholeheartedly. “Goodnight… Princess?” It’s at this moment where Renjun watches a faint brush of pink dust Donghyuck’s cheeks that he realizes he still hasn’t told Donghyuck his actual name.

“Renjun.”

Donghyuck smiles. A sudden gust of wind blows through, raking chill fingers through Renjun’s dark hair and Donghyuck honey hair. They both shiver simultaneously, laughing as they go.

“Goodnight, Renjun.”

Renjun shoots him a smile, hoping that Donghyuck can see the sincerity in it.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gasps she updated.
> 
> i did !! i'm actually getting over my writer's block for this fic pretty well, and honestly it's one thing that's keeping me going through covid :) have a good day/night ahead <3


	8. friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> midnight food-run type of vibe

“What did you mean by ‘only a few days left’?” Renjun asks. He’s uncomfortably perched on the metal bench that stretches across the space between the two rows of lockers that belong to the youth division, the hard surface not doing anything for his bruised butt. Next to him sits Yangyang, who mirrors his position, laptop in his lap, and all. Showers are still running and other teammates are in various stages of dressing, but the youngest two finished a while ago, and are now completing some last-minute assignments.

Yangyang looks up from his own laptop, “What are you talking about?”

Renjun turns and sees Yangyang’s furrowed brows. Two nights ago, post balcony conversation, Renjun found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He remembered thinking about how cold it is in October… how excited he is for his parents to start using the fireplace… how they only start using it after Thanksgiving… how there’s less than a month left until Thanksgiving… but more than a month left of school….

“You said that there’s no point going to school this year when there are barely any days left,” Renjun turns his entire body towards Yangyang, crossing his legs like a kindergartener, “but there’s like a month left.”

For a moment, Yangyang just stares at him. Then he grins, letting out a hearty laugh. Then he shrugs, turning back to his laptop. “The office lady advised me not to join yet. You guys have finals soon so there won’t be any classes to go to.  _ That’s  _ what I meant by-” he lifts his hands from the keyboard to mock quotation marks, “‘-barely any days’.” His laptop starts slipping towards the floor, but Yangyang manages to catch it even with his attention elsewhere.

Renjun pauses as Yangyang goes back to typing up the answers to his biology worksheet.  _ I guess it makes sense,  _ he thinks. He goes back to his own document, labeled ‘chemistry homework’, and stares at the half-done worksheet. He reluctantly lifts his fingers to the keyboard and almost starts typing in his first answer, when the changing room doors slide open.

“Guys, don’t shower-” Taeyong is panting as he peers at the two boys on the bench and the few others at their lockers. “-yet.”

“What’s up?” Kun appears from the sink area, the back of his t-shirt damp from his wet hair.

“Um….” Taeyong starts, visibly nervous under their stares, “How mad would you be if I asked you to re-dress for a quick sim?”

The single shower that was running squeaks shut just then, leaving the changing room in warm, humid silence.

“Sorry, what?” 

The door whirs shut behind him. “Taeil just told me that the president is planning to address the issues arising in West America. In public. Meaning-”

“-we’re gonna have to be there.” Xiaojun sighs, drying his hair with a small towel. Taeyong nods, a regretful smile on his lips.

“Do we have to do the simulation now?” Ten shuts his locker with a not-so-quiet bang. “Can’t we do it tomorrow morning?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “He’s going to do it tomorrow morning.” 

Groans echo throughout the changing room, and out of the corner of his eye, Renjun sees Yukhei already start to slip his t-shirt off again, confirming that they’ll have no choice but to comply. 

“You feeling okay today?” Taeyong has stalked further into the changing room. Renjun only then realizes that Yangyang is already grabbing his sweaty training clothes from his locker, and he’s the only one left unmoved. He nods wordlessly. Taeyong purses his lips, ruffling his fingers in Renjun’s now-dry hair. “If anything, just tell me. I don’t think we need all team members tomorrow.”

Renjun tenses. The sickly sweet sound of pity is something he hated more than anything else. He gets that Taeyong is just trying to take care of him, but it makes him feel weak and useless, and God it irks him to no end.

“I’m fine.” He blurts at Taeyong as he starts heading out. Taeyong turns. “I’m just saying. I’m completely fine. I can go tomorrow.” He leaps up, determined to do his best in the simulation today.

“Alrighty,” Taeyong chuckles, leaving the changing room with a soft shake of his head.

☆★

A couple of minutes past 11, the East door is being pushed open, revealing eight tired but satisfied agents. Renjun’s mood is rocketing. He swings his arm over Yangyang’s shoulder- who almost shoves him off- grinning like he won the lottery.

“Good job again guys,” Xiaojun says, mirroring Renjun’s expression. 

“That was so good? We beat all three bots!” Hendery is beyond excited, creating one booming clap with his hands.

“And Renjun didn’t almost die this time,” Ten mutters, earning a jab from Kun. He tsks, jabbing Kun back. “It’s a good thing!”

Renjun just laughs, but he’s forced to clutch his waist, still in pain from when the first bot threw him into a wooden plank that proceeded to snap in half.

They’re all in some type of pain, but none of them can be bothered. Taeyong had burst into the training room with the comm case, but his arms were outstretched above his head and he had a toothy smile to match it.

“I watched the whole thing.” He’d said clicking the case open. There were some spots of blood from where Sicheng had cut himself on one of the wood planks and a couple of containers out of place, but the biggest and most important part was the three giants on the floor. 

Yukhei slides into step beside Renjun. “That was a good session wasn’t it?”

Renjun flinches, making Yukhei smile. He is kind of aware of how dumb he looks just staring at Yukhei, but he can’t help but wonder why Yukhei manages to look as if nothing wrong has ever happened between them. Like they were fifteen again, and just friends. 

Renjun decides to go with it. “Yeah.”

Yukhei laughs again, and Renjun curses the little swarm of butterflies that momentarily flutters in his stomach.

He can’t help but be hyperaware of how close they are. There’s so much space in the hallway, yet with every step, Renjun feels their fingers brush or their arms touch. Each time, it causes the little butterflies in him to go crazy, and Renjun steadily grows desperate for space. But he doesn’t want to seem awkward, because Yukhei is raving on about the shot he got in earlier, and everything is supposed to feel normal.

Supposed to.

“We don’t have all day, c’mon.” Ten calls out, unbuckling his vest. Renjun takes the opportunity to run ahead of Yukhei, jogging into the elevator, deliberately wedging himself in between Ten and Sicheng. The latter grins at Renjun, a cheeky glint in his eye as he swings an arm across Renjun’s shoulders. 

“Shush,” he mutters, feigning annoyance, but realistically loving Sicheng’s company. He’ll admit that he and Sicheng aren’t the closest, but the two have had nothing but good memories in training and the few dinners they’ve been out to together, so it’s pretty calming to be around someone you’ve never had an issue with. (?) edit this lmao

The moment Yukhei enters the elevator, the doors slide shut, and despite all their excitement, it’s quiet. They ascend until they reach the basement, and approximately half an hour later, the eight of them are in the elevator once more, more tired than they were before, but clean and cozy.

They bid each other goodnight, and soon enough it’s only Yukhei and Renjun again.

The elevator continues to ascend, and Renjun hates how his chest constricts just by being in the same space as Yukhei. It’s odd, because he’s standing in the opposite corner from him, and Yukhei isn’t even looking at him, but Renjun still can’t help but will the elevator to move faster so he can escape the suffocating atmosphere he’s in.

Renjun’s heart almost stops when Yukhei suddenly turns to him. “Are you busy tonight?” 

Renjun blinks.

“No…” he trails off, eyes flitting towards the screen above the door that increases in number painstakingly slowly.

“Do you wanna go to Mick’s?” Yukhei asks, tone as casual as casual gets.

Renjun observes him for a moment. He doesn’t break eye contact and is mildly irked when he sees almost no emotion in Yukhei’s eyes. There’s no ulterior motive to asking Renjun to go. Yukhei is really just asking him to go for a midnight snack run. As they’ve done a million times before.

“You could’ve said that before we reached the higher levels of the building, you know,” Renjun mumbles. A cautious smile spreads across Yukhei’s features as the elevator slows to a stop. The doors slide open, but neither of them advances towards them. They just stand in their respective corners until the doors slide close. 

Yukhei finally lets out a relieved laugh. “I thought you were going to say no,” he shakes his head in disbelief, leaning forward to press the button that leads to the ground floor.

Renjun shrugs, feeling himself relax a little. “I didn’t say yes.”

Yukhei huffs, the small smile still playing on his lips. It doesn’t activate the butterflies in Renjun’s stomach but instead melts the tension away like a lit candle melting wax. It’s a slow process, but it’s happening, and the light of hope for Renjun and Yukhei’s friendship to go back to what it used to be flickers back to life.

☆★

Renjun feels odd sitting in the passenger seat of Yukhei’s car. He hasn’t been in here for quite a while, even before the first time they kissed. Let alone sitting here with only Yukhei.

Yukhei lives in Zone 3, which isn’t too far from Renjun’s place or the diner. As they rumble through the mostly empty roads leading away from the high-rise office buildings and towards the living areas, silence ensues. Almost six minutes of pure, unadulterated silence goes by, until Renjun can’t stand it. The suffocating feeling comes back because he feels the tension rolling off of Yukhei as well, and ignoring it isn’t making the feeling go away.

“Do you not listen to the radio?” Renjun blurts as Yukhei pulls up at a traffic light.

Yukhei turns to him, one hand on the wheel, the other one on the gear. Renjun gulps, desperate to shut down any butterflies before they lose control at the sight. When the corner of Yukhei’s lips turn up just a little, Renjun knows he’s been caught, and a wave of heat floods his face.

“I do, usually,” Yukhei says, turning to face forward again. “But the music at this time of night isn’t that great. It’s just noise with no lyrics. EDM shit, you know?” 

Renjun nods, mentally thanking the poor lighting of the road for mostly masking the blush that doesn’t seem to be going away.

“I get it,” he manages to choke out. 

_ Maybe silence isn’t too bad. _

The last few minutes of the drive go by in silence, and just as Renjun starts to drift off to sleep, the engine cuts, signalling their arrival. Renjun jumps in his seat, eyes flitting everywhere, unaware of where he is for a moment.

“Calm it, Huang, it’s just me,” Yukhei laughs, knuckles white around the gear stick. Renjun stares at it for a moment, a small attention-craving part of him wanting that to have been because Yukhei wanted to touch him.

Renjun looks up at Yukhei, and a smile slipped off the latter’s lips. It plucks one of Renjun’s heartstrings, the way Yukhei immediately dropped the smile as soon as they made eye contact. The smile Renjun missed so much.

_ As friends.  _

He digs his nails into his palms for a fleeting moment to pull himself together, then exits the car wordlessly, shutting the door a little too hard behind him.

The chill instantly leaks through the thick fabric of Renjun’s hoodie, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Wet hair doesn’t help either.

“We going in or not?” Yukhei is suddenly right by Renjun’s side, and he flinches again. Yukhei lets out a stark laugh. “You need to be aware of your surroundings, Jun.” 

Renjun tsks him and elbows Yukhei’s side, causing him to laugh again, before shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. “I’m tired, okay.”

Yukhei softens. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You should’ve told me.” 

Renjun looks at Yukhei. The parking lot in front of the diner isn’t too big, and there are warm, yellow streetlights standing on the perimeter of it, casting a golden glow to Yukhei’s already stunning skin. Another chill prickles across Renjun’s skin as he peers at Yukhei’s eyes, but something tells him that it isn’t the cold that’s doing it.

“I’m fine,” Renjun clears his throat, popping the joint in his thumb. “Let’s go in before we freeze.”

Renjun doesn’t miss the soft sigh that escapes Yukhei’s lips before the sound of the car locking bleeps in his ears. Yukhei nods his head in the direction of the diner, a small gesture to get Renjun moving with him. As they near the relatively old and small building, Renjun calms. Even if it’s just a diner, Mick’s is a safe place for him, besides home. The name glows in bright yellow and cyan, the letters bold against the night sky.

Yukhei reaches the door first, opening it with a hand, then turning to Renjun. He exhales, clearly as cold as Renjun, letting his breath curl in front of his face. Renjun can imagine just how cold he is, though. He’s only wearing a t-shirt and flannel.

The warmth of the diner is like a sudden hug from an old friend. It hits him hard, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it. He’s so distracted by the smell of mouth-watering burgers and homey warmth of the building that he doesn’t realize Yukhei has already found a booth for them to sit in.

“Renjun,” Yukhei calls out. Renjun finds him standing by a booth by the right side of the diner, the seats a comforting deep blue. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and rubs them together, before going to take a seat opposite from Yukhei.

“Since when did it get so cold in October?” Renjun mumbles, mostly to himself.

“I mean it is past midnight,” Yukhei replies. Renjun pauses, then hums in agreement.

“Hi guys,” a waiter beams. Renjun looks up to him and is instantly relieved.

“Hi Mark,” Renjun grins. Yukhei echoes him, probably glad to see his old classmate. “I didn’t know you worked Friday nights?”

Mark sighs, sliding his pad of order sheets out of the front pocket of his apron. “Me neither. But there’s a new guy, so I’ve gotta show him the ropes. Hopefully it won’t be for long, though.”

Renjun nods, still smiling. He’s always been friends with Mark, despite being in different years. Only because he visited Mick’s so often, though. And Taeyong lives down the street from Renjun, who just so happens to be Mark’s cousin.

It’s when Mark is about to ask for their orders that Renjun processes what he said moments earlier.

“Wait, I’m sorry, did you say ‘new guy’?” Renjun blurts. Both Yukhei and Mark turn to him, both with identical quizzical expressions.

“Um, yeah. He’s working the counter right now. Why?” 

Renjun opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it, realizing he has no idea what else to say. It’s almost obvious that it’s Donghyuck, so he shouldn’t be surprised. His cheeks start to burn with the gazes of two confused boys on him.

“Nevermind,” Renjun mumbles, shaking himself out of whatever he’s feeling.

“Okay,” Mark says calmly, with no sign of any judgment in his tone. “What do you guys want?”

“Can I have a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake?” Yukhei asks. He turns to Renjun, gesturing with his head to order.

“I’ll have fries and a strawberry milkshake.” Renjun shoots a grateful smile at Mark, who nods, scrawling the information down.

“Don’t forget to grab your food at the counter later,” Mark slides a buzzer across the table. It looks kind of like a UFO, matte grey and all, but with a single light blinking red to show that it’s activated, but the food isn’t ready. Mark ruffles Renjun’s hair once with a fond smile, then leaves to tell the kitchen what they need to cook.

“You have exams soon, right?” Yukhei asks, a sweet attempt at breaking the awkwardness between them. 

Renjun has to smile at the effort. “Yeah, finals.”

“Are you ready for them?” Yukhei’s bottom lip disappears under his top one, and if Renjun isn’t mistaken, there’s a little brush of pink on his cheeks.

He decides to put Yukhei out of his misery and actually put effort into the conversation.

“I’m as ready as I can be. Besides, I’m more worried about tomorrow morning than my exams.” 

“Tomorrow?”

Renjun sighs, bringing his legs up on the sofa to criss-cross them. “Mission? The first one in God knows how many months. And things are getting restless out there.” He sees realization dawn in Yukhei’s eyes. “The crowd may or may not be filled with anger-driven citizens.”

“Good point,” Yukhei props his elbows on the table and slides his fingers into the front of his hair. He sighs, staying like that for a moment, before sitting back up. “Man, I wasn’t this nervous before you said that.”

“Sorry,” Renjun giggles.

Yukhei shakes his head, smiling, and catches Renjun’s eye. 

Renjun feels his heart skip a beat in his chest, and the smile slides away. There’s something about the glisten in the corner of Yukhei’s iris that screams adoration. Renjun can’t help but ache at the sight of it. He tries his hardest to convince himself that it’s just the unnecessarily bright lights of the diner reflecting off of them, but as he continues to sit there, smileless, he’s sure it’s something more.

Yukhei seems to come out of it, breaking eye contact. Renjun exhales, releasing a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He feels the gradual burn of a blush forming on his cheeks, and without looking, knows that the same thing is happening to Yukhei. Renjun’s vision flitters across the diner at the few customers and the retro light fixtures, anything besides the boy opposite him.

“Hey-” Before Yukhei can finish, the device that signifies their food being ready buzzes, and within seconds, Renjun is up and out of his seat, muttering a string of words he probably can’t explain, the disk tucked away in his hand, blinking green.

He begs his heart to calm as he weaves through a couple of tables towards the counter, a minor ache pounding his heart. 

“You okay?” A voice comes, shocking Renjun out of his mini-panic. Not that it helps, because there’s a face he is far from used to standing behind the counter, donned in a uniform he is very used to.

Renjun blinks, hip bumping into the edge of the counter. “Hi,” he chokes out.

A smile slowly forms on Donghyuck’s lips as he gently nudges the tray in his hands away from his torso. “Hi.”

“I’m okay,” Renjun says, mostly to himself. 

Donghyuck hums in acknowledgment. Then he grins. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

Renjun flinches, unable to mask the little jump that he does as he says, “I don’t,” tone expectedly defensive. 

“He _ isn’t _ your boyfriend?” Donghyuck arches his brow, not focused on Renjun sliding the buzzer out of his pocket. As Renjun plops it down on Donghyuck’s hand, his fingers brush over Donghyuck’s palm, and somehow its warmth takes away some of his stress. It’s in that moment he realizes that he’s never been this close to Donghyuck before.

_ He’s taller than I expected. _

“No, he isn’t. He’s just a friend.” It feels odd not calling Yukhei his best friend, but just saying that out loud makes Renjun feel weirdly better.

“More for me?” Donghyuck asks, a now semi-familiar glint in his eyes. Renjun can tell that he’s kidding, yet can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Sure,” he drawls, sliding the tray off the counter surface. Donghyuck laughs, a full, twinkling laugh. 

“Enjoy your food, Princess.”

When Renjun sits back down across from Yukhei, he finds himself feeling a lot looser, to the point where he can actually hold a conversation. Sure, Yukhei seems pretty confused at first, but he goes along, and Renjun feels grateful for it. There’s a small part of him that is grateful for Donghyuck as well, but he just can’t seem to figure out what it is about that honey-skinned, honey-haired boy that makes him feel better in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends :)
> 
> i had this random thought the other day about a hunger games themed fic with a (currently secret) ship and I just.... I'm super tempted to write it I'm ngl. BUT I feel like I should finish this one first.... even if it takes forever. but that also makes me scared? bc I feel like I might lose the motivation to write that fic,,, idk if you wanna maybe drop a comment on your thoughts? 
> 
> thanks for reading <3


	9. mission (for real this time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> renjun and friends having a totally normal saturday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello i'm back <3 just a quick possible tw, there is a mention of death, but there isn't any death really, but I just wanted to mention it just in case. i'll put in the reason for it at the end notes, so if you're worried please go check that out! it doesn't do much to the storyline anyway.
> 
> always remember to stay safe when reading !!
> 
> enjoy :]

Early Saturday morning, Renjun finds himself eating breakfast with his parents around the dining table as the eight o’clock sun dots the floor as reflections off of the crystal light fixture above them.

Except, instead of pajamas, Renjun’s parents are both cleaned up in crisp, black suits, with earpieces hanging by swirling cables on their shoulders, waiting to be connected. 

Renjun still has his pajamas on though.

“So I’ll see you guys at the venue?” Renjun mumbles through a mouthful of cereal, folding his legs on the plush leather chair.

“Technically, yeah,” his mother replies, downing her final gulp of orange juice. She places the glass down with a small clink. “But we won’t be seeing each other much.”

Her hair is tied in a low, long ponytail, with no baby hairs in sight. The top of her hair is slick with gel, and Renjun can’t help but feel a swell of pride to have her as his mom. She looks and  _ is _ so put together, even when doing something as ordinary as eating breakfast. 

Then he turns and sees his dad is sitting at the table in a black shirt and pants, a matching blazer slumped on the back of his chair as he spoons cereal into his mouth, and he feels the muscles in his face morph into something that he hopes resembles a fond smile.

As if on cue, Renjun’s dad scoops another hefty serving of cereal into his mouth, a splash of milk slipping over the edge of the metal spoon. The milk drips to the white fabric, and Renjun giggles as his dad swears, patting the darkened spots helplessly.

“Oh for heaven’s sakes,” Renjun’s mother grabs a wad of tissues and starts patting his shirt, and Renjun has to look away when he sees his dad smile at her like they’re still in their honeymoon phase, even though it’s been almost seventeen years. 

“Oops?” 

Renjun’s mom shakes her head, leaning back to see if the stain is still there. “You had to do this on a day that’s important,” she sighs, bunching up the tissues in hand. “Should be fine. Just make sure you button up your blazer properly.”

Renjun laughs as his dad nods, a mockingly grave expression on his features. “Yes ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes in response, a hidden smile forming as she checks her watch. 

“Do you need to go?” Renjun asks, watching as her smile turns down by the slightest. She nods apologetically, and Renjun shoots her a smile. “It’s fine. I’ll clean up quickly and make it to HQ fast enough. You guys go ahead.”

As an agent, Renjun doesn't actually need to be prepared as fast as his parents do. They’re heading to the venue early to make sure everything is set up properly, and that all necessary safety precautions are set in place. All Renjun needs to do is pick up his vest and comm.

“Okay,” Renjun’s mother rounds the table, cupping Renjun’s head in her hands as she presses a rushed kiss to his hair. “Be careful, okay? Whatever you do, don’t freeze up.” Renjun nods, watching as she dumps her dishes in the sink, a small move towards easing Renjun’s cleaning duty.

“We’re taking the car,” Renjun’s dad also rounds the table, wrapping Renjun in a big hug. Renjun tenses, laughing. “You got a ride to the O?”

Renjun nods, knowing that Sicheng will be out there to pick him up in twenty minutes. 

“Okay, we gotta go,” Renjun’s mom calls from the front door. Renjun follows the voice, leaning his shoulder against the wall on one end of the shoe cabinet as she slips a pair of flats on. Only when she’s safely secured her feet in the shoes does she stand straight, patting down any non-existent stray hairs. “You’re trained for this,” she says the phrase so familiar to Renjun’s ears. “You’re gonna do great.”

“I know, Ma,” Renjun crosses his arms as she unlocks the door, letting a blast of cold wind in. “You guys be careful too.” 

Renjun feels a hand on his back as his dad passes, whispering, “I put the stuff away for you. Just leave the dishes for later and wipe the table okay?” Renjun grins, heart feeling full. No matter how many times he thinks he has the best parents ever- even though they get into fights just like any other family- they always manage to one-up themselves in some way.

“Thanks,” Renjun beams, watching as his dad slips on a mismatching pair of socks.

“Remember to lock up, okay?” is the last thing that Renjun hears his mother call out before their door slams shut with a heavy thud, the auto locks whirring into place. He shakes his head, turning away from the door to clear up. 

True enough, there’s nothing on the table besides Renjun’s bowl and a couple of small puddles of spilled milk. He picks up the bowl and places it gently in the sink before grabbing the rag they use to wipe the table up. He rinses and squeezes, feeling his muscles groan slightly from the previous night’s strenuous training. 

As he wipes down the table, he finds himself thinking of Yukhei. It’s quiet in the house, and he can’t help but travel back through his memories to all the times he’s had Yukhei over when they were kids, for sleepovers and hangouts, study sessions, and such. Renjun hates how it pulls at his heartstrings, because they’re older now, and they’ve been through too much to go back to the innocent friendship they had before.

Three honks of a car snap him out of his daydream, and his heart drops.

_ I’m going to be late. _

Renjun dashes into the kitchen, fluffy socks sliding across the marble floor. While he rushes to rinse and squeeze the cloth again, he hears another set of honks come from outside and knows it’s Sicheng wondering where the hell he is.

“I’m coming!” He shouts as loud as he can, despite the fact that he knows Sicheng will not be able to hear him. Renjun runs to the front door, wiping his hands on his pajama top. As soon as his hand is on the doorknob, he hears the locks click open, and he swings the door open, to see Sicheng sticking the upper half of his body through the sunroof, squinting to get a look at Renjun.

“Renjun?” Sicheng calls out, still squinting. Then his eyes widen, an amused smile on his lips. “Are you planning on dressing up like a prepubescent kid with no place at a political event, or are you just not ready?”

“Just come inside for a bit while I dress up!” Renjun shouts. He presses the button by the door, and as soon as the gate starts sliding open, he runs up to his room, trusting that Sicheng will close everything up eventually. 

When in his room, Renjun throws his closet door open to reveal an assortment of clothing, most too lazy to fit an event with the president. The president will have his own range of bodyguards, but it is the Organization’s responsibility to go undercover in the crowd to monitor the people, in case they see anyone suspicious. To do this successfully, they’re going to need to look like they belong in the crowd. 

“I need more jeans,” Renjun mutters, yanking open his drawer of bottoms. He stares at his sad pile of black skinny jeans, most of them ripped, and some of them a little short for him. Somewhere in the corner of the drawer, he finds a pair of straight and wide-legged pants, beige in color with a grid-like pattern. A gift from his grandparents for his birthday earlier in the year. He’d never got to use them, though, even though they look quite nice. 

“Hm,” Renjun hums, pulling out the pants and bumping the drawer closed with his hip. He turns to his closet again and takes out a blank white shirt and a sweater that’s just slightly darker than the pants. With all the layers, he hopes that he’ll be warm and that the bulletproof vest he’ll get later will fit without looking bulky.

“You okay up there?” Renjun hears Sicheng call out. He sneaks a peek at his clock as he lifts his pajama top over his head, and realizes it’s almost nine o’clock, and they’re supposed to be at HQ at 9:30. 

“I’m okay!” Renjun shouts back. He finishes dressing up as fast as he can, not bothering to shut his closet. He rushedly tucks the front of his sweater into his pants and grabs his thin, gold-framed glasses from his bedside table before running down the steps barefoot. 

“You look good,” Sicheng grins, taking in Renjun’s outfit. Sicheng himself is dressed in a blank white t-shirt with a letterman's jacket over the top and a pair of skinny jeans to pair. He looks like a college student, which seems like a good enough disguise to Renjun. 

“Thanks,” Renjun smiles, panting. “Let’s go.” 

Just as he steps towards the door, Sicheng grabs his shoulder, pulling him back with a, “wait!”

Renjun turns, confused, until Sicheng’s hands go to his collar, straightening it out and pulling it out of the sweater. 

“You’re still a child,” Sicheng sighs dramatically, linking his arm through Renjun’s. Renjun laughs, excitement and apprehension for the mission bubbling in his stomach. He can’t help but be a little worried but tries to convince himself that things aren’t so bad, and no one will  _ actually  _ be out for the president. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” Sicheng drags Renjun along, only letting go to let Renjun slip his white sneakers on while he sticks his feet into his battered Converse. There’s a relatively small round mirror hanging inside their shoe closet, and Renjun uses it to ruffle through his dark hair, trying to make it slightly more presentable.

“You look fine, come on,” Sicheng snatches Renjun’s wrist, and Renjun barely gets a grip on the side of the door to close it as he’s whisked away. 

Luckily, Renjun had also managed to grab his gate key, something almost identical to his car key, of course, as both were engineered by Mysti. The back of it is engraved with the famous logo- a wolf’s head with the letter ‘M’ curled behind it. Renjun points the key at the gate and slides his thumb down the front, causing the wave of blue to ripple, thus opening the gate.

“Did your parents leave already?” Sicheng asks as his seatbelt clicks in. He motions for Renjun to do the same once he’s shut his door.

“Yeah, they left and took the car. We’re not getting anyone else, right?” Renjun peeks at the car clock and sees the digital hands tick closer and closer to the quarter line. He brings his thumb down the opposite direction on the key, and the gate starts to slide shut.

“Nope,” Sicheng starts the car, and soon they’re off, heading deep into the heart of the city.

Somewhere halfway through the drive, in the middle of the two talking about studies and their nerves about the mission, Renjun’s phone buzzes in his hand. He flips the screen over, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sicheng take a peek.

“Who’s that?” Sicheng asks, eyes turned forward. Unfortunately, their hope of making it to HQ on time is rapidly dwindling, considering the unusually large pack of cars on the roads right now, most of them probably heading to the Town Hall. Sicheng’s leg bounces, visibly anxious to get them moving faster.

“A friend,” Renjun says, quizzical. He presses the answer button, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten his best friend to call him this early in the day.

“ _ Renjunnie! _ ” Renjun winces as Jaemin’s startlingly loud voice booms against his eardrum, “ _ are you busy today? _ ”

“Depends on what time. Why?” Renjun finds a stray thread on the hem of his sweater and begins rubbing it between his fingers. Ahead, traffic clears just slightly, and Renjun is pressed back into his seat slightly as Sicheng speeds up. 

“ _ Well, I know you don’t care much about politics, and I’m sure you probably have better things to do but do you wanna go to the president’s address today? _ ”

Renjun’s fingers still as he goes silent, unsure if he heard Jaemin right.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Sicheng has turned to him now, as they’ve had to suddenly stop at a red light. His head is tilted in confusion, but Renjun only shakes his, a gesture to tell him that it’s nothing.

“ _ Do you wanna go to the President’s address at Town Hall today? _ ”

“You mean… now?” Renjun winds the light brown thread around his index finger, tight enough that you can see where the string presses into his flesh in pale lines.

“ _ I mean it is now, isn’t it? _ ” Renjun hears shuffling on the other end of the line, “ _ If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’ll just go on my own. _ ”

Renjun feels a twang of guilt when Jaemin says the last sentence. Jaemin’s voice is light and airy, sweet as always, and he’s probably being genuine too, but Renjun still can’t help but feel bad.

“Jaem, I would totally go, I would!” Renjun pulls the thread tighter, accidentally unraveling it from the sweater a little. He stops pulling. “But I’m busy this morning, so I can’t go.”

“ _ Aw, that sucks, _ ” Renjun can hear the pout. Then, he hears the smile in the next couple of words. “ _ That’s fine though. I just thought that since it’s open to the public this time you’d wanna go! But if you’re busy, it’s all good. You have to make it up to me, though.” _

“Make it up to you?” Renjun feels the car inch forward once more. 

“ _ You, me, lunch. Mick’s maybe? Then whatever else we need to do for the day. _ ”

Renjun can’t help but laugh, “Deal. Is one o’clock good for you?”

“ _ Perfect, _ ” Jaemin says.

Renjun hums with an affirmative nod, knowing that Jaemin will be able to get the message. 

“I’m really sorry I can’t go, Jaem. Maybe next time?”

“ _ Mm, sure, _ ” Jaemin says, sarcasm evident in his tone. “ _ If you want to. I know you don’t keep up with the news and shit. _ ”

“I’ll try next time, ‘kay?” Renjun loosens his grip on the thread.

“ _ Good enough for me. I’m gonna get ready to go then, I’ll see you later! _ ” The call ends with a ‘love you’ from Jaemin and an ‘okay’ from Renjun.

After a few moments of silence, Sicheng speaks up.

“What was that?”

Renjun sighs, the realization heavy on his shoulders. 

“My best friend is going to the gathering,” he says, laying his phone face down on his lap. In his rush to leave he’d forgotten to grab a bag, so he’s left with his phone and key in hand.

“Is that a bad thing?” They’re moving at average speed now, silently cruising along the road. Renjun recognizes the building they pass, and figures they might actually reach HQ on time.

“Well for starters, I told him I’m not going,” Renjun takes the thread in his hand again, “and if he sees me… well how do I explain that? The fact that I’m there, and dressed in something I wouldn’t usually dress in?”

Sicheng hums, acknowledging the issue. “Well, if you just show me his photo I can make sure he doesn’t go near you?”

Renjun turns to Sicheng, who still has his eyes on the road. But he’s smiling, and it makes Renjun smile too. “That would be nice.”

Renjun doesn’t interrupt Sicheng as he drives but promises to show a photo later before they leave for the venue. For the rest of the trip, Renjun goes by trying to find ways to avoid Jaemin. The crowd will likely be disorganized and thick, and the chances of even seeing Jaemin are probably slim, much less to bump into him. In reality, he knows that it should be fine, but he doesn’t want even the smallest risk, knowing what kind of consequences it’ll bring.

Soon enough, Renjun and Sicheng arrive at the HQ parking lot with a minute to spare. Sicheng grabs Renjun’s wrist and runs, barely letting him shut the door and dragging him along. The empty lot echoes with the sound of their footsteps and it serves as a constant reminder that they’re the last ones here and they’re far from on time at this point. 

“You’re going to break my wrist,” Renjun scolds as Sicheng tightens his grip, causing him to almost drop his phone in the crack between the elevator and the parking lot, a spike of panic bringing his heart rate up.

“Sorry,” Sicheng pants, finally letting go. They both stand in the elevator in silence, both warm from the mini-sprint and slightly worried about what Taeil will say when they arrive late.

A familiar ding signals and Sicheng latches onto Renjun’s wrist once more, dragging him across the basement and to the changing room before the doors are even halfway open. The changing room is shut, but he slams his hand on the surface, probably loud enough that the people inside will hear it, and a wave of blue ripples, followed by the doors sliding open.

It’s almost comical, how Sicheng and Renjun stand in the doorway, out of breath with pink on their cheeks and limp hair, while the rest of them stare. 

Ten is on the bench, legs crossed as he’s slumped over his phone. Yukhei is basically half-naked in front of his locker, in the midst of slipping over his t-shirt, and so is Xiaojun. Kun is tying his shoelaces, and Hendery and Yangyang are playing video games in the corner.

Well, that’s what they would’ve been doing if they weren’t all staring at the two in the doorway.

“We’re not late?” Sicheng finally gets out, exhaling heavily. Ten lets out a short laugh.

“You would’ve been if Taeil were here,” Kun says, as the boys go back to doing what they were doing around them. Kun stands running a hand through his ungelled hair, “but he’s not. At least, not yet. So you’re safe.”

All that hits Renjun is relief. His face is flushed and his hair is everywhere, but at least he won’t get in trouble. 

“Good enough for me,” Renjun sighs, placing his stuff down on the bench next to Ten as he heads towards the sink areas to sort himself out. 

A single mirror stretches across the span of the wall like it would in a dance studio, besides the fact that it doesn’t reach the floor. Beneath it lies a row of six sinks, all bright white and shiny, as if they are brand new. Renjun stands in front of the one closest to the locker area, shaking his fingers through his dark bangs to distribute them in a somewhat presentable manner across his forehead. By the time he’s satisfied with the outcome, he hears the changing room door slide open.

Renjun leans to the right to see past the wall, and sure enough, Taeil has entered the changing room, dragging in a clothing rack holding seven identical vests in one hand, and holding a case in another. 

“Hello, hello,” Taeil grins, letting the door slide shut behind him. He places the case down on the bench next to Renjun’s stuff. The boys all stop what they’re doing and turn their attention to their mission coordinator, smiles automatically coming to their faces. Even Ten smiles softly.

Whenever they have missions, Taeyong isn’t the one to handle them. Despite him being the one that works with them the most, he is only their trainer in the end. Besides, he’s currently working as a bodyguard for the president. Taeil on the other hand does all the behind-the-scenes work: the programming of the simulations, the main logging of their progress, the organization of the mission, etc. He might be younger than a large percentage of the staff that handles them, but he’s in charge.

And even with all that power, he’s still a humble man with a sunny personality.

“How are we all feeling today?” He asks, the vests completely still on the rack, “I heard that some of us haven’t been well this week?” Taeil turns to Renjun, along with half the team, and it brings warmth to Renjun’s cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” Renjun says, smiling from behind his limp hair.

“Great, cool, fab,” Taeil scans the room, still smiling. Renjun wonders if his face ever hurts after doing that all day. “Well, here are the new vests the engineering team designed for y’all.” 

Taeil rolls the rack forward, and the vests swing with the movement. Renjun can’t help but look at the vests in awe. They always train with the old ones; the thick black vests made of Kevlar, only because they’re heavy and make training harder. Eventually, on the field, they’re always given new ones that are lighter and better, but training with heavy ones makes them better prepared for the field. 

“We didn’t use your individual measurements for this one,” Taeil starts, taking one off of a hanger. He scans the team that is now gathered around the bench Ten is still sitting on, then lands on Xiaojun. “Come,” he beckons.

Xiaojun steps over the bench space beside Ten and stands by Taeil. 

“You guys ever watched that movie Spiderman?” Taeil starts, holding the vest by its shoulders.

A couple of affirmative hums ring out. 

“You know how when he presses the logo and the suit tightens to fit his body and all?” The others nod, curious eyes following Taeil’s fingers as he lifts it to Xiaojun’s torso. It looks like a vest you would use on a formal night; its matte black silhouette is fitting for a dinner with the president. The only thing stopping it from being just that are the glossy stripes that stretch across the fabric vertically, and the fact that it doesn’t have any buttons.

“Arms,” Taeil moves as Xiaojun slips his arm through like a jacket.

“How does that close up?” Yangyang steps closer to the front of their little circle, past Kun who makes way for him.

Taeil responds with a smirk, an excited glint in his eye. 

He turns back to the vest on Xiaojun. The fabric isn’t flimsy, but it isn’t stiff either. It’s thin enough to be hidden, but thick enough that it looks like it won’t rip easily. 

Taeil holds Xiaojun by the shoulders and makes them face each other. Renjun spies the Mysti Co. logo on the left breast, shining silver against the vest. He watches as Taeil presses the logo.

When he’s done that, multiple things happen at once. First, Renjun- and everyone else, he’s sure- watch in awe as the fabric instantly warps to fit Xiaojun’s broad figure with a hiss, the front flaps overlapping and tightening as if they were magnetic. As it happens, the glossy lines ripple with a wave of that familiar electric blue light, and Xiaojun gasps.

“That felt  _ weird _ ,” he says, arms stiff. They’re not touching the vest, as if he’s afraid that something might go wrong if he touches it.

“That’s it,” Taeil sighs, satisfied. “It’s bulletproof and shockproof, and you can barely see it. The fabric isn’t too thick and it’s airy so that your body won’t feel suffocated. It also doesn’t look funny beneath your outfits.” Taeil props his hands on his hips, scanning Xiaojun (who still looks unsure) up and down with a smile on his face.

“Cool,” Ten says, placing his phone face down on the bench.

“Come on then,” Taeil says, motioning for the boys to take one each. “Get on with it, or you’re going to be late.” 

The semi-circle disperses as members of the team step to their lockers with vests in hand, undressing their upper halves. Taeil had pressed the logo again, which reversed the entire process, unfastening the vest around Xiaojun’s shirted body and making it look ordinary once more, in order to let him take the clothing beneath it off.

As Renjun unbuttons his shirt, he stares at the piece of armor in wonder. Fascinated, he lays his shirt by his discarded sweatshirt on the shelf in his locker and then picks the vest up. It’s cool to touch, and he almost shivers. It doesn’t help that the locker room is almost freezing too. 

“While you’re changing, let me run you through the mission,” Taeil starts again. Renjun turns around to him, slipping his arms through the vest. Taeil now has a tablet in hand, which he places on the bench, screen face up. He presses something on the screen, which activates a hologram to be projected from the camera, an upside-down pyramid of blue light at the base of it.

“Since we have eight of you, we’ll split the crowd into four, and pair you up,” Taeil starts. A high definition image of the front of the town hall materializes in the middle of the changing room. “Section A, B, C, and D, each a quadrant of the plaza area. Hendery and Kun, you take section A, by the bottom right area of the stage.” The two nod, already halfway done with redressing. 

Taeil continues, making eye contact with each person he calls to ensure that they know where they’re going, spinning the 3D model mid-air. In the end, it’s Renjun and Yukhei in section B, Sicheng and Ten in C, and Yangyang with Xiaojun in D. Despite not being too keen on having to be that far from Sicheng who promised to help with Jaemin, he doubts that his friend will be near his area anyway, so they should be fine. 

“Mission is simple,” Taeil clasps his hands behind his back, authoritative mode on. “Blend in, survey the crowd, and attempt to eliminate any potential threats by monitoring. If something is up, improvise. You’ve been trained for that, so I trust that you’ll be fine. If it gets bad, notify me. I’ll be connected to Taeyong and the rest of the president’s team. Only break character if you absolutely must, got it?”

“Yes sir,” the team echoes, voices resonating against the walls. 

“Great!” Taeil says, clapping his hands once, brightly grinning once more. He steps to the case and clicks it open, revealing eight gleaming ear-pieces. “You’ll be fine. Good luck!”

A chorus of thank yous follow Taeil as he leaves to prepare for his own departure.

Renjun slips his sweater on. Earlier, he had to fight the urge to gasp as a gust of cold air wrapped his torso when the vest tightened around him. Now, it feels comfortable, like the thin black shirt he’d wear under his usual training vest. 

“Everyone has their separate rides, right?” Kun asks. 

Renjun sighs. He’d momentarily forgotten that in order to minimize suspicion they’d have to come in their personal vehicles. His parents know that, but they said it’d be fine to just go with another person, knowing that in reality, no one will care to pay attention.

“Renjun can come with me,” Yukhei says. Renjun turns to him slowly, a forced smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

Before Renjun can say anything, Kun speaks again. “Okay! Let’s get to it.” 

Renjun sighs, skin hot when he realizes he’ll be alone with Yukhei again. There’s an odd itch in his chest, like when you feel a sneeze coming but it just… doesn’t. Renjun catches Yukhei’s eye, who smiles comfortably. The brunet smiles back, trying his best to relax. There’s no reason to feel uncomfortable when they spent almost all night together the day before.

Okay, maybe not the whole night. It was uneventful besides them eating and Yukhei dropping him off. They didn’t hug, which Renjun admits felt weird, because they would always hug saying goodbye. But he just didn’t feel like he could, and luckily Yukhei understood that without having to say anything. They just bid their goodnights and went their separate ways.

“Any day now, Huang,” Ten calls from the door. Renjun turns to the voice, only to see that he’s the only one left in the locker room. He quickly pockets his phone and leaves his remaining belongings in the locker behind him before clicking it shut.

“Sorry,” he mutters, stepping around the bench and grabbing the final earpiece from the case, slipping past his older friend. Ten is dressed in a beige turtleneck that matches Renjun’s sweater and black jeans, with a grey blazer over top. A pair of glasses is perched on the bridge of his nose, black-frame thin and rounded. It is definitely different from the ripped jeans and leather jackets Ten usually wears, and Renjun has to admit that he does clean up pretty nice when he doesn’t look like he wants to beat everyone up.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold in just that?” Ten asks as they trail at the back of the group heading towards the elevator. Renjun spies Yukhei somewhere in the front, animatedly chatting with Hendery. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” Renjun says, pressing the cool metal into his ear. It’s specifically made for  _ him,  _ molded to the shape of his concha, just like how everyone else’s is molded to git theirs.

Ten hums, almost like he doesn’t believe Renjun.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” he smiles. Ten scoffs in an almost-laugh type of manner. 

“Oh I don’t really care,” he admits, sliding his hands into his blazer pockets. “Just don’t complain.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, “it’s not like you’ll be anywhere near me for me to complain to you. I’m not riding with you.”

“Right,” Ten says, a smirk in his tone. Renjun turns his face to Ten, who, just as he expected, has his lips turned up in a satisfactory smile. “You’re riding with Yukhei.” 

Renjun doesn’t know why his heart thuds harder at the mention of Yukhei.

“Are you not comfortable with that?” Ten asks. They’re nearing the elevator now, and almost half the team is in there.

Renjun shrugs, trying to seem indifferent. “We went out to eat last night-”

“Oh?”

“-and it was mostly uneventful,” Renjun says, ignoring the interruption. “We ate and said goodnight, that’s all.” Renjun lowers his voice as he allows truth to seep into his tone when he says, “I just don’t know how to feel about being in the car again.”

Ten nods in understanding. “I would totally offer you a ride, but my bike might not be able to handle the two of us.” 

Renjun can’t help but raise his brows in surprise, but then returns to normal again, not wanting Ten to see it. But Ten must’ve seen, because Renjun soon feels a sharp elbow in his side, making his wince.

Still, Renjun risks a laugh as they both step into the elevator where the others are still talking.

“You get nicer every day. Maybe one day you’ll cry over my dead body.”

Ten scoffs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Don’t bet on it.”

☆★

In the car, Renjun is warm. 

_ Overly _ warm.

“The music should be better at this time of day,” Yukhei says, an uneasy smile on his lips. Renjun looks at him for a beat, then remembers to nod. 

Yukhei swipes his finger across the screen of his car, revealing a list of his most-used radio stations, while Renjun merely watches. It’s painfully silent, with only the low hum of the engine to keep them company.

“You ready?” Yukhei asks, swinging one arm behind Renjun’s seat so he can reverse out of the parking spot. 

“Sure,” Renjun tries to smile, turning to peer out the window. Just as he does, Yukhei pulls them out of the lot, the outdoors instantly hitting them with light. Sunlight beams through the tinted windows, pale and warm, and Renjun hopes that the good weather is a sign that everything is going to go smoothly.

They cruise through the city silently, neither of them attempting to make conversation. With the clear sky and the upbeat background music, Renjun doesn’t mind at all and feels like he’s finally able to focus on zoning out, ready to dispel any thoughts that may affect his performance during the mission. 

Soon enough, he’s snapped out of his little bubble as Yukhei announces that they’ve arrived. 

The parking lot isn’t anything secretive. In fact, it is quite the opposite. The sky is still bright as they open their doors and step out onto the tar. It’s packed with the cars of normal civilians that have decided to come out for the president’s address on the issues in the outlying states, all gleaming metals of red, blue, grey, and whatever other colors as far as the edge of the lot. As Renjun rounds the car, he spies the other agents stepping out of their own cars, pretending not to know each other as strangers pass by them. 

_ Mission, commence.  _

Yukhei comes to him, standing a comfortable distance away as he slips his hands into his jacket pockets. “Ready?”

Renjun inhales, the cool air sharpening his senses as it shoots through him. He nods, fingers running through his hair one more time, cold against his scalp.

“I’ll see you in an hour or so,” Yukhei says with a gentle smile, before stepping onto the road and slipping into the small current of people moving towards the marble structure that glistens beneath the sun.

Renjun stays in his place for a couple of beats and forces himself to bring himself to the present, quieting the worries in his head. He feels the vest like an invisible hug around his torso, the chill of the wind not reaching it. He feels the warmth on his cheeks, light sparkling his vision as it refracts through his glasses.

Then, he slips away.

☆★

Almost twenty-seven minutes in, Renjun spots something suspicious.

_ Someone  _ suspicious. 

At first, he pays no attention. Throughout the entirety of the address, the figure in the all-black outfit enters his horizon of sight a few times, mostly still and seemingly captivated by whatever the president is saying. At some point, Renjun forgets about him and shuffles away, shifting the glasses on the bridge of his nose, the tip of which is currently a shade of soft red from the cold. Renjun tries to convince himself that just because he’s wearing a black bomber jacket and a cap, it doesn’t mean that he’s automatically suspicious, and he needs to get that out of his head. 

But when the crowd shifts to reveal the man again, there is something in his hand. 

Something dark and small, not big enough to be a gun, and unlikely to be a bomb. 

But it is something Renjun thinks he recognizes, and it freezes the muscles in his legs.

He looks around. Despite the pack of cars back in the parking lot, the square outside the Town Hall seems to be more than sufficient to hold that many people and more. Those around him are all zoned into what the man on the stage is saying, all patriotic and ‘God bless America’ and all.

Renjun can’t help but scoff. 

_ God bless what’s left of America. _

He snaps out of it, his attention zoning in on the shadowy figure near the edge of the crowd. Even with the glasses, his eyesight isn’t great, and he’s forced to squint to get a better look at the device in their hand. 

In the midst of trying to find out whether he’s overreacting and it’s just a phone, the figure’s hold on the device shifts, and suddenly he’s hand around it like it’s the key of a car.

It’s all the confirmation Renjun needs. 

With a quick peek at the few people around him, he pulls his phone out, not bothering to unlock it before bringing it to his ears. 

“RJ here, quarter B. Can you hear me?” He says, quietly. To anyone near, it would look like he’s just on the phone with anyone, but in reality, he is speaking into the metal in his ear, the microphone he just unmuted in it discreetly strong enough to pick up his voice from a distance of just under a foot away. 

At first, there’s no answer, and Renjun feels a drop in his chest at the realization that he might be alone in this. 

Then, a soft entrance of noise as a microphone is unmuted.

“RJ,” Renjun hears a soft tone and concludes that it is Kun on the other end. “Is everything okay?” 

Renjun swallows, his vision still trained in the figure. They haven’t made a move to activate anything or slip away, but the sinking feeling of a timer being ticked makes sweat bead at the base of Renjun’s neck.

He responds to the nickname, something they decided on while they were changing since it would be highly suspicious if someone heard them calling ‘agents’. 

“You remember summer?” He begins, mind racing. “Third week of July. Sitting in the freezing cabinet with Yong.” He hears a hum and continues, thoughts tumbling out like boulders down a cliff edge. “He showed us… devices. New ones, made by the company. Explained their function to us.”

“Get to the point,” Renjun stops at the low hiss, clearly belonging to Ten. 

“One of them looked like my car key, slightly bigger. Dark grey, matte, can be pretty dangerous when used wrong. What did it do again?”

Another mic unmuted. 

“It’s like a remote. It can release cyber-viruses and even electric shocks through devices within a certain radius,” Xiaojun’s voice is relaxed as if he’s simply talking about what he ate for breakfast. But there’s a hint of tension in it as he speaks his next words. “Primary function of them is for control. O hasn’t used it yet because they haven’t had a need to, but rumor has it word got out about this new invention a year ago.

Yong told us that a crate of it got lost between the factory and the lab. He also said that it shouldn’t have been a problem, since at that point they were just tiny bricks of wires and cables.”

“But it’s not that much of a reach to think that whoever got their hands on it managed to figure out how to activate it.” When Renjun hears Hendery’s voice, he knows the entire team is on the comms, the agents in them working at full power. 

“Does… someone have one?” Yangyang, nervous, and apprehensive. 

Renjun gulps. “I think so.”

He remembers now. Taeyong had said that only three crates of them were created- most for testing purposes. These devices had the ability to control anything within a certain radius- Renjun forgot how far- that belongs to Mysti. Only the senior members of the Organization would have been able to access them if things really got bad in certain states or crowds, allowing them to have instant control over the people in whatever way the Organization wanted since most of the population owns something produced by Mysti.

Fear grips at his heart as he watches the figure fiddle with the device like it’s a phone, knowing that a slight bit of pressure could seriously injure or even  _ kill  _ people by frying or detonating the phones in their bags and pockets. 

“Do you need backup?” Renjun hears Yukhei ask. He can envision his friend nearer the center of the crowd, probably ready to weave and shove anyone away for him. 

But Renjun shakes his head. “No. It’ll cause suspicion.” He swallows. “It’s just one person. I’ll get closer, and figure something out. I’m a trained agent. 

What could go wrong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: renjun cracks a small joke about ten caring about him so much and mentions death in it
> 
> \--
> 
> a little longer than previous chapters but there's no harm in that, right?
> 
> i'm really sorry writer's block just came at me full force so it took a while but !! here we are :) also my brain decided to go "what if" and I have this whole idea for a hunger games nomin fic now but i'm planning on doing one fic at a time, of course heh. if u think you might be interested in that though...... comment? idk. also if u liked this chapter or have any constructive thoughts and criticism on my writing, I would love to hear it!! 
> 
> my cc is https://curiouscat.qa/jnocherry if u wanna use it <3 see u ((hopefully)) soon !!


	10. never forgets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a liiiittle shorter than usual, but nevertheless, I hope you like it.
> 
> <3

The first thing that Renjun registers when he stops speaking is the plunge into silence as everyone mutes their microphones. Sure the president is still speaking, but the quiet makes him feel so much further from his teammates that way, and therefore further from support.

It’s unnerving. 

The second thing that registers is that Jaemin is here.

_Jaemin is here._

If anything were to happen to the president and the crowd, it’s bound to hurt them all and Jaemin too. But the only name that really worries Renjun is Jaemin.

Jaemin, his untrained, unprepared, completely unaware, best friend.

So, Renjun steels his fists and discreetly slips towards the perimeter of the crowd. 

Ahead he can see the back of the head of the figure. The bomber jacket and the hat don’t give way to anything specific, but Renjun safely assumes that they are male, judging from their stance and relatively broad shoulders. Renjun had slipped his phone into his pocket ages ago, but he finds himself reaching for it in the warm material of his pants, tightening his fingers around the cool metal, even though he should probably be trying to get rid of it for the sake of his own safety. 

Renjun keeps walking forward, feigning concentration on the president instead of the person ahead. He manages to reach the man with only about two or three people in front of him, peering at him through a gap between shoulders. Renjun no longer has eyes on the device in hand, but he hopes that being able to keep the man in his sight is enough. He thinks he sees the ends of the man’s hair peeking from the hole in the back of the cap, but with the blinding sunlight, it is too hard to see. 

The vest he wears suddenly feels suffocating- the way it prevents cool air from hitting him and relaxing him. With his vision mildly impaired by the light but nowhere to put his glasses, Renjun starts to feel the odd rush of mission anxiety, the rush he seldom gets in training. He is cold and he is independent, but when it comes to danger he prefers to have the comfort of his teammates at least _prepared_ to help. As much as he tries to calm down, he is fairly sure this man is dangerous and that Jaemin is somewhere here, so he can’t back down now.

Ahead, the man moves. 

He doesn’t turn, but his Chelsea boots scrape against the freshly tarred road beneath them as he turns ninety degrees and weaves through the small throng of people that keep him from the outside of the square. A surge of panic flashes through Renjun, spiking his adrenaline and forcing him to follow from where he is, as the man leaves the address.

No one pays attention as the odd man steps away from the crowd, the device still caged in his fingers.

No one besides Renjun, of course.

Renjun brushes the hair above his right ear, tapping the earpiece once to make sure that he is unmuted. “Guys, he’s leaving the crowd, I’m gonna trail.” Luckily, the president seems to be riling the crowd up just in time, so they pay no attention to the boy rushing to escape.

“Be careful,” sounds softly in his ears before he tunes out the voices and hones in on the man walking briskly away towards the edge of the crowd. 

Renjun’s urge to get his hands on the device stems from the knots tightening in his stomach, and he can almost feel the cold exterior of it in his fingers, muscles twitching as he slows to a stop at the perimeter. There is a line of guards standing by the West stairs leading to the stage, blocking the man’s way around the building, and Renjun lowers himself to untie and tie his shoelaces, observing as the man turns around, face down as he detours towards the parking lot. 

He dares to flick his vision to the guards and manages to catch Taeyong’s eye for a fleeting moment before turning back to the retreating man. There was curiosity and urgency in that look, and even though Taeyong’s eyes were unclear behind the visor he wears, Renjun knows that his trainer wants him to go after the quickly disappearing body.

So he does.

Renjun stands after re-tying his shoelaces, just a little too tight. He ignores the line of tight pressure on top of his foot, trailing after the man who has slipped away and is now making his way across the road towards the parking lot. At this point, Renjun has earned a few side-glances, strangers eyeing him with suspicion, but he doesn’t have time to try and make himself look more… normal. It’s better to catch a guy and be a little obvious than to be cautious and end up killing a crowd of hundreds of people, so he clenches his fists again and silently treks after the man.

Renjun realizes a little too late that he has lost sight of the man, eyes darting from row to row of parked cars. Only when he feels the smooth tar beneath his feet give way to the older road with pebbles and bumps does his heart start up again. Not a sound is heard besides Renjun’s own breathing and the blood rushing in his ears.

_What if he saw me? What if he is already gone to his safe spot, seconds away from activating the device?_

Then, a beep in the silence. 

It’s almost supernatural, and people probably would argue that it _is_ supernatural, the way Renjun is able to instantly pinpoint the direction of the sound. His focus snaps to the first row of cars on the far right, to the fifth car from his side. 

No- to the big, blue, metal box behind it.

Renjun wonders why the hell there would be a medium-sized box in a parking lot out of all places. He quietly makes his way to the spot, finding that the box also looks like it is openable, with a rounded handle on a flap near the top. It is just a few centimeters taller than Renjun himself, and he thinks that Yukhei would probably be able to peer over the top of it.

He slows down when he nears the car between him and the box. So far, he has managed to prevent the sound of crunching pebbles with every step and has high hopes that the man won’t know where he is. Belatedly, he realizes that the reason the man is so quiet is probably because he _knows_ Renjun is there. 

Out of reflex, Renjun’s hand slips to his waist, only for him to hit emptiness. He’d forgotten all about the fact that he is currently weaponless, and fear strikes him once as he is forced to hold on to the hope that the man is weaponless too.

He crouches, adjusting his glasses as he slips into the space between two fairly expensive-looking cars. Sweat starts to bead at the base of his neck and temples, despite the cool temperature. Renjun blames the stillness of the air for the nerves plucking at his heart because nothing has ever calmed him down more than a fresh whirl of air.

Not that it matters. Renjun drags his mind away from panic and hesitation as he spots the toe of a black boot peeking out from the other side of the blue box. He transports himself back to the warehouse where there is no breeze, only stagnant, cold air from the air conditioners lining the ceiling. He pictures the previous night’s exercise, the satisfying clunk of a metal monster as it falls to the ground inches from Renjun, his paint gun smoking. 

_If I can take down bots, I can apprehend a human._

Inhale, exhale. 

The boot dashes backward, and Renjun stills. _Maybe I breathed too loud._

He stands straighter, making sure to keep his eye on the other side of the box as he steps towards the edge closest to him, to make sure that the man isn’t preparing to jump him once his back is turned. Being stuck in a loop is one of the most dangerous and complicated situations to find yourself in, Renjun has been taught. Yet, he finds himself almost intentionally putting himself into one with no knowledge on how dangerous the target actually is.

He just hopes that he is trained enough to get out of this relatively unscathed. 

Renjun sharpens his senses, needing to push up his glasses again that have slipped from the small sheen of sweat that has formed near the tip of his nose. He manages to reach the far corner that he initially saw the boot from, palms warm against the cool metal beside him. The sound of the president’s voice is merely a blur in the back of his head as he attunes everything to the situation at hand.

He could be inches away from the enemy. 

Deciding that the element of surprise may still be an option, Renjun prepares himself to face the man on the other side, feeling adrenaline tighten the muscles of his lean limbs. Then, he darts from his spot. 

Empty. 

But Renjun is trained, and somewhere inside he knew this was going to happen, so instead of freezing like a deer caught in headlights, he spins ninety degrees, fingers automatically latching onto the wrist of an incoming fist and slamming the hand on the hollow crate with a resonating bang. 

Renjun registers the sound of a low groan coming from the figure, but his breathing is heavy and his focus is momentarily diverted to the way the president’s voice has lowered ever so slightly. He hopes that the big man will start speaking normally again, that no one heard the sudden slamming sound Renjun created.

Shock radiates from the man’s body like waves of heat, and Renjun can’t help but feel satisfied. As a trained agent, he cannot help but be proud of the fact that even though his training is a far cry from whatever they are doing right now, he still succeeded. 

_A+._

Another sound of struggle hits Renjun and he realizes then that there is so much more to do. He snaps his attention back to the man, releasing his wrist and slamming his back into the box with a quieter bang, but with enough force that Renjun makes him drop whatever device was in his hand. He still hasn’t gotten a clear look at the man’s face, because the sun is still high, casting a shadow beneath the cap, and the black mask stretching across the lower half of his face doesn’t help.

Renjun presses his left forearm against the base of the man’s throat, making him press himself further back. Yet, he refuses to show his face, keeping his cap over his eyes. 

Renjun decides to let him have these last few moments to himself before he takes the cap off. For now, he chooses to interrogate.

“Who are you?” He starts, voice low. “Who do you work for? Why are you here?”

No answer. 

“Oh?” Renjun’s eyes slant in a glare and anger begins to bubble in his chest. “You don’t want to speak?”

Still nothing. Even though Renjun proceeds to press his bony arm further into the man’s upper chest, he refuses to speak, resorting to soft sounds of struggle like a deer caught in the jaws of a lion.

“Fine,” Renjun says. The man’s arms are limp at his sides, clearly making no effort to get Renjun off. The boy finds it mildly suspicious, because surely in a sweater and glasses, shorter than the man himself by a few centimeters, he probably wouldn’t be too hard to overcome. 

Then he realizes that is what people _would_ think if Renjun wasn’t in the midst of gradually cutting off their flow of air.

“I’ll have to do it myself then,” Renjun grumbles, moving his hand to the cap.

“Wait,” the man wheezes out. 

Renjun freezes. 

Renjun, who has been trained to be ruthless against any threat towards the people and the government for eight years, freezes at the word of a stranger. 

_A stranger._

With his fingers still gripped on the brim of the black cap, Renjun is frozen, and he doesn’t know why. 

“I-”

“Shut up,” Renjun blurts, surprising himself. There is an erratic thump in his chest as he feels electricity in his head, the thoughts and nerves connecting before Renjun can process. His brain has already come to a possible- _likely-_ solution, but his mind does not like it. He is usually quick on his feet about this stuff, but something is wrong, something is _so wrong,_ and Renjun doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Please,” the man taps the arm is forcing on him with his own gloved fingers, but Renjun barely feels it through the sleeve of his sweater. 

_The voice._

A crackle sounds in Renjun’s ears, snapping him out of thought. 

“RJ? You okay?” On the other side of the line, Kun sounds worried but hushed, probably still in the crowd. 

“I can come to you if you need help,” Yukhei mumbles through the earpiece, “your microphone has been on the whole time, and it… doesn’t sound good.” 

Renjun panics. If the assumption he made is correct, he doesn’t want the rest of the team listening in on what he is going to say, and do, next. In the back of his head, he thanks Kun for being the concerned leader he always is, for noticing Renjun’s elongated period of silence, because it reminded him of the seven people listening in on everything he’s been doing. 

He turns to the man, whose eyes are still hooded from the cover of the cap.

If there is one thing Renjun never forgets, it’s a voice.

Instinctively, he brings two fingers to the microphone, hovering above the metal. “I’m fine. I can handle this.” Then, he double taps and cuts his microphone, muting the earpiece despite the protests on the other side. 

Silence ensues, with only two patterns of breathing overlapping each other. 

“Listen,” Renjun starts. He presses the arm to the man’s chest. “If I’m right, you’re fucked. If I’m wrong, you’re still fucked.” 

If there is anything Renjun hates as much as being caught off guard, it’s being wrong. 

But _God_ does Renjun hope he is wrong today.

Before the seeds of doubt can make their roots in his willpower, Renjun yanks the cap off the man’s head, tossing it to the ground shortly before unhooking the mask from the man’s face.

Dirty blond hair topples over his forehead, his eyes still trained on the ground. But the skin, despite the lack of its usual shine, is as smooth and stunning as Renjun remembers, despite never having seen it this close. 

He thinks he physically feels his heart drop. Renjun is almost afraid to say the word on the tip of his tongue, and he feels the energy drain from him, his force on the _boy_ loosening. 

“Donghyuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops.
> 
> i can bet that most of y'all of not All of y'all saw that coming lol
> 
> BESIDES THAT i am planning on making an updating schedule :o i don't love it because i struggle to keep up with college already, but i am on holiday until next year from this Saturday soooo maybe. writer's block is also a bitch but hopefully i don't get stuck with it again lololol
> 
> OKAY byebye <3 til next time !


	11. interrogation

“RENJUN?” 

“Shut up,” Renjun hisses pressing his arm further into Donghyuck’s chest. There’s evident confusion in his eyes, but there’s something unusual there that draws a big question mark in Renjun’s mind.

“I- what are you doing?” A crease folds between Donghyuck’s eyebrows.

_ Fear.  _

Renjun pushes harder, knowing that if he didn’t push he would’ve probably let go as the realization hit him.

_ There is no fear. _

Sure, Donghyuck is shocked, obvious from his blown-wide eyes and gaping lips, but his eyes lack that shine of fear, the one that Renjun has seen on previous targets on more offensive missions. Even though those people held experience, held moves that could kill under their belt, there would always be some level of fear in their eyes when they find themselves weaponless and under the arm of a small but powerful eighteen-year-old.

And yet, here stands Lee Donghyuck, pressed against a big box, inches away from suffocating, yet his body is barely tense, almost careless.

“Dude,” Donghyuck says. 

This time, Renjun flinches, backing away as if burned. “Dude?”

Donghyuck only stares, dumbfounded.

“Did you just ‘ _ dude’  _ me?” 

Donghyuck releases a slow breath, pulling himself to a proper standing position as he dusts his clothes, taking his own sweet time. Renjun feels his jaw drop, but quickly snaps it shut as Donghyuck looks back up at him. 

“Listen-”

Renjun recovers, a rush of strength suddenly overcoming him, which he uses to shove Donghyuck back against the box, his agent side taking over. 

“You listen,” Renjun hisses, semi-satisfied at the muted shock Donghyuck has fallen into, “I don’t know what you’re up to, because frankly I don’t even know you. But whatever it is, give up already. I don’t know what you’re doing with a crowd-killing device-”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Donghyuck says, trying to push himself up. Renjun refuses to budge, shoving him down, making him look taller than the boy under his arm. Donghyuck lets out a defeated huff before continuing, the look of confusion unmissable. “ _ Crowd-killing device? _ ”

Renjun glares, not up to dealing with a bullshit pretense. “Yeah. The one I knocked out of your hand.”

“You mean my  _ recording  _ device?” 

Renjun swears his heart stops in his chest. 

Then he peers at the space where the device had fallen earlier.

Sure enough, a pure black device was there, buttons and all. 

But it was  _ definitely  _ not one that could kill a crowd.

Dread starts to fill Renjun like water being poured into a cup when he makes all the connections. He probably shouldn’t have made all those assumptions and worried his team for no reason, especially when he knows he doesn’t have the best eyesight. From a distance, there is no doubt that anyone could have mistaken it for a crowd-killing device.

_ Right? _

“Can you… let go of me now? Please?” Donghyuck asks in a hushed voice. Wordlessly, Renjun releases him, still staring at the device on the floor. 

Sure, it isn’t going to kill anyone. 

But why does Donghyuck even have it? These types of recorders aren’t in use anymore, they’re not even under Mysti’s creation.

Renjun bends to pick the device up, turning the cold metal in his hand. 

“Why-”

“What-”

The two of them stare at each other wordlessly, waiting for the other to start again. Before Renjun can say anything though, Donghyuck speaks up.

“You go first,” he beckons with a small bow of his head, voice soft. 

Renjun shakes his head silently, before bringing a hand up to his earpiece, double-tapping it once more.

Instantly, he’s deafened by a chorus of whispers. 

“Was that RJ?”

“Did any of you just unmute your mics?”

“I think RJ unmuted us.”

“RJ? Is that you?” 

Renjun swallows. 

“Guys-”

“I swear RJ, I was about to come for you. Why would you  _ mute  _ us like that?” 

Renjun’s cheeks burn. He’s lucky the technology is good enough that only he can hear them because right now it sounds like he is a child in trouble for running after a butterfly. 

“I’m sorry, Qi,” he replies with Kun’s field name, genuinely apologetic. “I just… needed to focus.”

No replies. It seems like everyone has muted their mics to hear better.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay,” Kun replies, sighing. “We know you can handle it but still. That device is dangerous.”

Renjun’s mouth goes dry.  _ Time to speak. _

“Actually… it isn’t.”

A small burst of static before another voice comes in. “What do you mean it  _ isn’t _ ? Is it not one of those things?” Hendery asks.

Renjun shakes his head, eyes still on Donghyuck so the boy doesn’t attempt to dash while he is busy. Although, it seems as though as every second passes more confusion clouds his expression, so Renjun trusts that a quick escape is the last thing on his mind. 

But the explanation part… Renjun will have to deal with that later. 

“It’s… not.”

Someone else unmutes his mic, but all Renjun hears is a scoff before they fall back into silence. He rolls his eyes, knowing fully well that the only member petty enough to do that is Ten.

“I’m really sorry, I made a mistake. On closer inspection, I realized that it’s just an old recording device. No harm.” 

A beat of silence. Then, “Okay.” 

Renjun worries his lower lip between his teeth, regret and disappointment at himself heavy on his shoulders. It’s rare that he ever makes mistakes, and the fact that he made one on the field is something unexpected for all of them. But it weighs the heaviest on himself.

And Kun can probably tell. “It’s okay. You didn’t interact with the target though?” 

Renjun hesitates before replying. He looks straight into Donghyuck’s eyes, searching for anything besides the innocent confusion in his look. But Donghyuck darts his eyes away too fast for him to catch anything.

“No,” Renjun lies, keeping his eyes on Donghyuck, who refuses to look back, “I didn’t interact. He got into his car and drove away.”

Silence ensues once more.

“Are you gonna come back?”

Renjun shakes his head, then says, “no, it might be weird.”

“Spotlight effect,” Renjun’s breath hitches as he hears Yukhei’s voice for the first time since he unmuted them. “Remember, no one is going to think much about it. Just come back.”

Renjun bites his bottom lip again, still watching Donghyuck. He knows he can’t just  _ leave  _ with how far he has gone with him. Renjun shakes his head again, but before he can say anything Ten speaks up.

“No. RJ should stay out. For all we know, that man could be dangerous anyway. Who records these types of things?” No one speaks, so Ten continues. “He should stay out. There may be people around that he can help with from the outside.”

A silence filled with unsaid opinions and contemplation settles upon them. Impatient, Renjun just wants out so that he can figure out what to do with the boy still standing in front of him, listening to every word he is saying.

“Okay, fine,” Kun finally says. He sighs, “be wary out there, RJ.”

“Roger that,’ Renjun says rushedly, then mutes them, and his mic, once more. 

Donghyuck is staring at him, smooth skin only flawed by a single crease in between his brows, and pretty eyes slanted. Despite them being mostly closed, Renjun can see the question brewing in his mind and decides he should get to interrogating Donghyuck before  _ Donghyuck  _ starts interrogating  _ him _ .

“You’re being weird,” Renjun says, low. He admits it’s probably not the smartest, most intimidating thing to say, but he can’t go back now.

Donghyuck scoffs, “Me? Weird? You’re the one who was about to Bruce Lee my fucking face, Renjun. Why?”

Renjun swallows, still unused to the sound of his name coming out of Donghyuck’s mouth. He can’t tell Donghyuck that he’s an agent that is part of something more secret than the aptly named Secret Service. 

“You speak first, then me.” 

“Why?” 

Irritated by the well-timed bites back, Renjun grits his teeth. “As you said, I looked like I was about to Bruce Lee your  _ fucking face,  _ which I can. So you speak first, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

The first thought that goes through Renjun’s head is that Donghyuck is only going to laugh because lo-and-behold, he’s a trained agent working for whatever opposing force there is to the government, which would put Renjun into a bigger hole then he’s already in. Luckily, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Donghyuck’s face goes from tight to slack like he’s given in. And sure enough, his muscles relax too.

“You got somewhere to sit, then?”

☆★

_ Cold. _

The first thing that hits Renjun is the fact that Donghyuck’s car is freezing cold.

After Donghyuck’s last question, he’d thought for a beat, then upon realizing that he in fact did  _ not  _ have a place to sit, asked Donghyuck instead, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. Donghyuck only smirked, then led him to the five-seater he owns, the exterior a simple black gloss.

Involuntarily, Renjun shivers, bringing his hands up to rub his sweater-clad arms. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of Donghyuck’s car, the dark leather interior cool to touch. Since the driver’s door is a little further, Renjun sits alone in the silence, waiting for the other’s black-clothed figure to emerge on the other side. 

Soon the door opens, and Renjun drops his hands. 

“Cold?” Donghyuck asks, shutting the door as he sits. Renjun pauses, then decides nodding should be fine. “Sorry, I had the AC on earlier.”

“AC?” Renjun blurts before he can think better. With the weather cooling down now, he’d expect most people to leave their air-conditioners off, and even turn the heaters on. He thinks Donghyuck has to be insane for switching his AC on.

Still, Donghyuck nods, leaning back into his seat. He doesn’t seem the slightest bit cold. 

“I’m used to living in the cold,” he says, voice a lot softer. Then he sits up abruptly, eyes slanted in suspicion as he presses his right forearm into the seat. “In the handful of minutes we took to get here, I’ve been thinking, why am I agreeing to tell you anything?”

Renjun blinks. “Because I can hurt you...” he trails odd. Although he doesn’t think it sounds very threatening, because the end of his sentence lifts up in question due to his momentary confusion. He isn’t very used to his targets being so relaxed around him, but then again, he is weaponless and has very mixed feelings about having his target be Donghyuck.

“Well, you don’t know that  _ I _ can’t hurt you. So why am I going first?” At this, Renjun lifts a brow.

“You can hurt me?”

Donghyuck stares at him, expressionless, only to lift the corner of his lips into a smirk that makes Renjun’s stomach twist. “I can, actually. I used to do martial arts when I was younger.”

Renjun takes it as a challenge. “So you’ll... _hurt_ me if I don’t go first?”

The entire conversation seems unreal, the word ‘hurt’ being thrown around so much that it doesn’t feel like a huge deal. 

Donghyuck laughs lowly, then shakes his head. “No. I can go first.”

“Enlighten me then,” Renjun starts as Donghyuck leans back into his seat. The two stare out of the windshield and at the blinding ball of gas and heat beaming down on them from behind the few tufts of clouds above. “Why were you recording the president?”

“Why are you so curious?” 

Renjun snaps his head towards Donghyuck, who calmly continues to stare out of the windshield. Despite only knowing him for just over a week, Renjun isn’t surprised at his lack of cooperation. To be honest, it doesn’t feel too serious, but more like a futile attempt at taunting the poor guy. Renjun sighs. 

_ This is gonna take a while. _

He feigns nonchalance, shrugging as he says, “It’s not every day you see a teenager recording the President’s voice on an old recorder, dressed in all black, looking highly suspicious.”

Donghyuck scoffs, “why is it suspicious? Doesn’t that seem a little… movie cliché-ish to you?”

“The only reason they became clichés is that it happens often in real life.”

“Again, why are you so curious?” 

Renjun grits his teeth then forces himself to relax his jaw, knowing violence won’t get him anywhere, especially not in a cramped space like the front of a car. 

“Just wondering.”

“You know,” Donghyuck starts, still staring aimlessly out into the lot. Renjun uses the lack of attention on him to take three deep breaths, calming the growing frustration within him. He’s trained to deal with uncooperative targets, but more often than not he wouldn’t be having a (supposedly) friendly conversation with them in _their_ _car._

“Why did you do all that?”

Renjun drops his head to the headrest behind him. Like a child, Donghyuck didn’t even finish his previous thought.

“Do what?”

“Well,” Donghyuck brings his hand up, ticking the point on his fingers with a lighthearted tone, “follow me out of the crowd, creep up on me, try to catch me, then, well, stop me from punching you.” He pauses, turning his head to gauge Renjun’s reaction. Then he quickly adds, “okay the last one is self-explanatory.”

Renjun fills his cheeks with air, deep in thought. Trained to think fast, Renjun realizes that this is it. Either he lies, or tells the truth.

Or buy himself more time.

“You tell me what you were doing first. I know it wasn’t aimless. Tell me, and I’ll tell you anything you need to know,” Renjun swallows, “and don’t bother trying to tell me it was all for fun. You’re probably highly suspicious of me right now, but I don’t want to hear it. You tell me first.” 

Silence greets them like an old friend, familiar yet awkward at the same time. 

Then, “Fine.” 

Donghyuck’s sudden compliance shocks Renjun, but he manages not to show his joy at finally getting a start at something useful.

“I’m only telling you because I’m not… bad. Per se.”

Renjun frowns, an odd feeling settling on his shoulders. 

“Go on.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck inhales, then relaxes. “I’m part of this… group. Like a youth group?”

Renjun shifts his expression to mirror one of nonchalance.

“All the people of this group have been ex juvenile delinquents, all with records of being anti-Mr. President.” Renjun notes this, satisfied with how the explanation is going so far because it makes sense. “You know how rebel groups are taken in this country. They all live in the poorer zones, and used to rebel against the president for reasons I’m sure you’re probably aware of.”

“Where do you come into this?” Renjun asks, one of the latter parts of Donghyuck’s clarification catching his attention. “You just moved here and you live in Zone 2.”

“I assume your question is of how I came upon this… organization.” The use of such a familiar word picks at Renjun’s brain. He understands that Donghyuck only means to use it generally, but can’t help but overthink that his tone covers a deeper intention. 

“I used to live outside the city, remember?” Donghyuck continues, his voice taking a lighter tone than his business-like one earlier. “It’s different out there. There are way more opposed people, and with that, more people understand why it’s wrong to hate our current president when the last one was… well.”

Renjun subconsciously nods, easily following.

“So, I did research. Drove around the city, out and in. I don’t go to school, and my work shifts tend to be later in the night as they are generally less favorable, so they were easy to get. I stumbled upon one of their meeting sessions in Zone 9. I asked to join, explained that I wanted to help, and they let me.”

Renjun thinks his brain can complete the explanation itself but decides to ask Donghyuck for further confirmation of his suspicions. 

“So… why record?”

Renjun sees Donghyuck smile out of the corner of his eye, finally turning away from the sun. “As I said, you know how it is. Running in anti-president groups is a huge offense, and the process of being arrested for this specific crime is not light. Even then, the police that patrol the centers don’t treat them too nicely either. Most of the people in the group are too terrified to go within a mile of a police car, much less the presidential address.”

“So you’re recording for them.”

Donghyuck nods, “precisely.”

This time, Renjun welcomes the silence with open arms, needing some time to digest and pick apart the explanation. He thinks it makes enough sense. As someone who has lived in Central Haven all his life, he’s aware of the brutality of the police. They aren’t gentle in the slightest and tend to be too harsh on their arrestees. Renjun himself despises this but knows that they were worse before. 

Still, trauma is trauma, and the bruising grips of burly officers are likely to traumatize a young teen who is only trying to fight for what they believe is right. 

“Now,” Donghyuck starts, yanking Renjun out of his head much earlier than he would like. “Your turn.”

Renjun turns his head to Donghyuck, a full ninety degrees. He takes a moment to take Donghyuck in completely, from the ruffle of soft hair on his head to the boots on his feet. He switches to taking in his body language. The slight tilt of his head, the way he’s completely lax in his seat. He seems so carefree that Renjun can almost hear him humming a tune like he’s stuck in traffic but completely unbothered by it. 

He doesn’t seem suspicious.

_ Neither does Jaemin. _

Renjun balks at the voice in his head. He can’t help but acknowledge the fact that it’s right, that Jaemin is completely trustworthy of the secret, like how Ned was completely trustworthy of knowing Peter’s secret. 

But then again, it’s always been more than trustworthiness, hasn’t it? Jaemin, despite his bad-boy exterior, has the biggest heart Renjun has ever known. He may dress in leather jackets and ripped jeans, but he’s still the sparkly pink-haired boy Renjun befriended those few years ago.

Renjun thinks back to the morning after he got punched. The nasty bruise, the scarred cut. Jaemin had instantly switched from silly to concerned, brows drawn together so hard that Renjun thought they might get stuck there forever. Even after Renjun said he’d walked into a tree, Jaemin was still tense. 

How would he react if he knew what Renjun was really going through?

In Renjun’s peripheral vision, he expects to see Donghyuck boring two holes into the side of his skull, hungrily anticipating what reason Renjun has for his unorthodox behavior earlier. 

But he isn’t.

Renjun turns his head slightly, mind still piecing together an explanation, only to see Donghyuck closing his eyes, resting peacefully in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. His lashes brush his cheekbones, and the steady rise and fall of his chest almost fools Renjun into thinking that he’s fallen asleep. But Donghyuck peels one eye open by a slight margin, turning to Renjun. 

“Bored?” Renjun chokes out, blanching at his weak voice. 

Donghyuck laughs softly, returning to his previous state of eyes shut and head leaning back, revealing a jawline that sits between deathly sharp and undefined. 

“No, just waiting. Take your time, I’m sure it isn’t easy to find a viable lie.”

Renjun’s cheeks burn.

If Donghyuck already expects a lie, then surely he might as well go with one. Whilst embarrassed for being caught, Renjun finds himself grateful for Donghyuck. Like he’d expected, the boy is a lot smarter than he lets on, and yet he doesn’t push Renjun for the truth, knowing that he won’t give it. 

Maybe he expects Renjun to tell him over time. 

At the thought, Renjun lets out a sudden scoff, causing Donghyuck to open his eyes once more, a puzzling glint in them. 

Renjun shakes his head, finally having come to an explanation that lies comfortably between truth and lie. 

“I’m an undercover cop.” 

It’s suffocatingly silent in the car for a few beats. Donghyuck’s careless expression gradually shifts to one of speculation, his round eyes slanting by the slightest.

“Aren’t you a little too young to be a cop?”

“Who do you take me for- Phineas and Ferb?” Renjun shoots back, unsurprisingly steady. Donghyuck releases another gentle laugh, but there lies a certain lilt to it that makes Renjun feel uncomfortable like he suddenly has an itch that he can’t reach. 

“No, but seriously. You’re 18, right?” Donghyuck queries. Renjun nods, making Donghyuck smile. “You’d only be training at this point. I don’t think you’re allowed to be a cop until at least 21, much less one sent on an undercover mission.”

Renjun’s fingers make their way to his right thigh, pinching through the pant leg the way his biological parents would when he did something wrong. The sharp pain does the trick of telling him that he messed up, and for some reason, he kept the habit up even after being put up for adoption, because it keeps him in focus. 

And now, he’s trapped. 

“I-”

“It’s-”

They start speaking at the same time, and Renjun clamps his mouth shut, jaw tense. 

“It’s okay. I don’t need an explanation. I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

This time, Renjun slants his eyes. “You think you can figure it out?” 

Donghyuck smiles, the minor lift in his lips dancing on the line between friendly and threatening. 

“You came at me like I’m an enemy at a presidential event, so I can only assume you’re with the government. You tried to tell me that you’re an undercover cop, and it would’ve totally worked if we were like three years older,” the way he calmly continues to list down all the clues Renjun has given him hurts Renjun in an almost irritating way. It feels like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, and Renjun just wants it to stop before his ears start bleeding.

But he continues. “I’m an open-minded person, you know? I can put two and two together, and figure it out.” 

“So?”

Donghyuck turns his entire body to face Renjun this time, and the latter mirrors him, feeling like he’s been challenged. 

“So what?” 

“So what is your verdict, Donghyuck? Who am I?” 

Donghyuck laughs that soft laugh again, the one that Renjun feels has a villainous inflection buried in the soundwaves. It sends goosebumps rippling across Renjun’s skin.

“That,” he starts, leaning forward. Automatically, Renjun backs up, inches away from the door, “is for me to know, and you to…  _ try  _ and find out.” 

Donghyuck is almost entirely on Renjun’s side of the car, leaning in close, maybe trying to get a reaction out of the boy in the passenger seat. Renjun feels hot again, thinking that Donghyuck can probably see the waves of heat emitting from his form. He feels the bump of the handle and pockets in the car door dig into the muscles of his back, but he wants to go further, he wants to melt into the door and reform on the other side, away from the laser beam eyes that belong to Donghyuck. 

“Now,” he says, an innocent smile on his lips, “you may leave the car.” 

Renjun swallows, unmoving.

Then Donghyuck pulls back, leaning into his seat again with a more natural smile on his lips. “That is, unless you want to go somewhere? Food maybe?” 

Renjun’s stomach grumbles as if cued, and it makes Donghyuck laugh again. This time, his laugh seems warmer, sounding like a shaken snow globe in Renjun’s ears. The sudden switch between scarily sneaky and ordinarily silly ruffles Renjun the wrong way, and he finds himself shaking his head, thanking Donghyuck for the offer before he opens the car door and steps back into the cool air in one swift motion. 

As soon as his feet have touched the tar, Donghyuck leans into the passenger seat and reels the window down. 

“It was fun talking to you, Princess. I knew from the start that you’d be fun to get to know, but now I’m just beyond ecstatic to find out more about you.” Donghyuck smiles warmly, the type of smile that would render knees weak and hearts melted. Renjun only stays frozen on the road. 

“See you around,” Donghyuck licks his lips and leans back the window closing. Renjun feels stuck as he hears the engine rev, and is unable to move until Donghyuck pulls out of his parking spot, wheels crunching the loose gravel beneath. Only when the sleek black silhouette of the car is out of sight does Renjun exhale a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Even with fresh air and a lot more space to breathe, Renjun feels like he has been knocked off-kilter, like a world off of its axis. The entire encounter, from seeing the back of his head in the crowd to the moment he stepped out of the car has left his mind spinning, making his head physically ache. Something about Donghyuck makes Renjun want to run away from and towards him at the same time

The phone in Renjun’s pocket buzzes, shocking him out of his daze. 

“ _ Renjun? _ ” Yukhei’s voice rings out from the other end and another pulse of pain throbs in Renjun’s head. Out of all the people he would want to speak to after that, Yukhei is the last one on the list. 

“What?” 

Renjun can hear Yukhei flinch. “I just, um, wondered if you were okay? We’ve tried to get you on the comms again but you haven’t switched them on in a while. Are you okay?” 

Renjun shuts his eyes and drops his chin to his chest, breathing in deeply. He imagines all the questions he has about his neighbor as strings of yarn and winds them into one neat ball, then rolls it into the shadows of his mind until he decides to go through them one by one. 

_ Inhale, exhale. _

“I’m okay.”

“ _ Did something happen? _ ”

Renjun shakes his head, then replies with a small, “no.”

“ _ Okay. We’re almost done here so just wait a few minutes and I’ll be by the car soon. I can drop you off at your house if you want?”  _

This time, Renjun has to smile. No matter what happens between him and Yukhei, there will always be the first instinct to take care of the other. Renjun often feels it bubble to the surface when they train and he sees bruises painting Yukhei’s arm like a solar system.

“Thank you,” he says, eyeing Yukhei’s car on the other side of the lot. “I’ll wait by your car?” 

“ _ Sure. If you need anything call me _ .”

Renjun hangs up and is dunked into the peaceful almost-silence of the city center. He can still hear the President’s voice, but he tunes out the words, allowing it all to merge together to form a bassy blur. 

_ Inhale, exhale. _

He breathes deeply, trying his hardest to sort himself out, but the unease within him isn’t settling. With no one around, he basks in his alone time, taking slow steps towards Yukhei’s car. 

Something tells him Donghyuck is so much more than just the boy next door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello, to those who have been waiting/those reading, here is a much delayed update!
> 
> i became really busy in trying to sort out my holidays, and preparing gifts for people too, and, well, I also discovered the drama it's okay to not be okay is a lot better than I suspected it would be,,, if u haven't watching it yet you totally should !!! 
> 
> anyways, here we go :)
> 
> leave some comments if you please, they make me happy hehe :]
> 
> have a good rest of your week!


	12. best friend

“-you even listening?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through Renjun’s train of thought, snapping him back to the present. The leather of the booth seat they’re in is pressing into his legs, now dressed in black denim instead of his fancy pants.

“Hm?” Renjun turns to find Jaemin glaring at him questioningly, leaning on his elbows atop the empty table. Mark had just left about a minute ago, taking their lunch order with him, so the two are alone, supposedly in a conversation, but in reality, it’s just Jaemin talking to himself. 

“You’re so out of it right now, Jun. What’s going on?”

Renjun shakes his head, hoping to fool Jaemin with a sheepish smile. “Nothing, don’t worry.”

Silence ensues. Unlike with Donghyuck, Renjun hates silence with Jaemin, because no matter how far he is, no matter the fact of whether he’s looking at the boy or not, if Jaemin can see Renjun, he  _ will  _ be staring. 

Hard.

“Jaemin, please stop staring at me,” Renjun mutters, closing his eyes as he pops the stiff joints in his neck. 

“Not unless you tell me what’s been going on. You’re so off today.” The squeak of leather against the table sounds, and when Renjun opens his eyes again, Jaemin is literally leaning over the table, eyes filled with suspicion.

Renjun instinctively lifts his hands and presses them to Jaemin’s shoulder blades, feeling embarrassment blossom from the base of his neck. “Jaemin, oh my God, sit down-”

“Nope, no, I will not!” Jaemin leans into Renjun’s hands, and he almost wants to pull away just so his best friend will fall. He peers around the diner in hopes that no one is looking, but sure enough, at least one set of eyes is on them, judging.

“You’re so loud!” Renjun whisper-shouts, still pressing against Jaemin in a struggle to hold him up. He feels his back sink into the booth seat he’s in, with Jaemin’s upper body pretty much parallel to the table. “Can you  _ please, _ lean back? You’re so embarrassing, people are going to think we’re a couple.”

Jaemin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Every person we’ve met has thought we’re a couple at  _ least  _ once, Jun.” 

“Okay? But we’re not, and people are staring, Jaem!” Renjun scolds quietly, looking around once more. Sure enough, he sees the person from earlier snap their head away quickly, alongside a few others now. The diner is comfortable, not too big but not too small, meaning their seat is visible from almost every other table sitting beneath the bright lights. 

“Will you tell me then? Explain why you’re being so weird?” Renjun thinks Jaemin is starting to deliberately lean even further into his hands with force, and he’s forced to grit his teeth with the amount of strength he’s using. 

“Jaemin-”

“Tell me! I can help with whatever you need help with-”

“-just stop-”

“-and then we can eat peacefully and-”

“-Jaemin-”

“-so-”

“-okay!”

Jaemin instantly pulls away, making Renjun lurch forwards with the sudden lift of weight. The brunet rolls his slightly sore wrists, glaring at his best friend who is getting comfortable in his seat again. 

“You’re so infuriating sometimes.”

Jaemin giggles, then dramatically groans, “God that used a lot of core strength.” Renjun rolls his eyes, making Jaemin shoot him a cheeky grin. “You could’ve dropped me, you know.”

“Oh trust me, I was tempted.” 

Jaemin laughs again, and the sound itself is enough to cool Renjun down. 

“You didn’t though,” Jaemin’s tone clearly sounds like it’s pointing the conversation in a certain direction, and Renjun is smart enough to know exactly what it is. Still, he plays along, all for his pink-haired, rose-smelling best friend. 

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

“And why is that?” 

Renjun can’t help the smile that starts to form on his face at the endearing habit of Jaemin’s. For a boy so strong and so intimidating, Jaemin is such an angel and adorable, sometimes to the point where Renjun feels like punching him.

Like now. 

“Why do you think, Jaemin?” 

Just as the boy is about to reply, a strong scent of burgers waves over them, diverting their attention from the conversation at hand to the tray of mouth-watering food Mark is carefully carrying over to their table. Ever since he accidentally dropped his tray that one time on a bunch of strangers, Mark has always delivered orders with extra caution tensing his entire body.

“Hey guys, here’s your food,” Mark says, deliberately shooting only Renjun a friendly smile as he places the plates and cups on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun sees Jaemin pout, seconds before tapping Mark on his shoulder. 

Mark, with his jaw now clenched, turns to him.

“Why aren’t you smiling at me?” Jaemin accuses, frowning. Mark shoots him a sarcastic smile, one that Renjun can admit he doesn’t see often, mostly because it’s reserved only for Jaemin. 

“Enjoy,” Mark, ignoring Jaemin, places the final part of the meal on the table, which is Renjun’s milkshake. Then, tucking the tray under his arm, he gives the two a mini salute and is off to work again.

Renjun watches as Jaemin’s eyes follow Mark walking away, focusing so hard on the boy that Renjun doubts he even knows he’s staring. His neck cranes around until Mark disappears into the kitchen to check on some orders then turns back slowly with a subconscious smile on his lips. Meeting Renjun’s eyes, Jaemin’s smile turns into a frown and he blinks at his best friend.

“What?”

“You’re so into him, Jaem.”

Jaemin lets out a sudden scoff, shaking his head. “I’m just playing with him.”

To any stranger, it would sound completely believable, far from unnatural, but the tips of Jaemin’s ears are peeking out from under his dying hair and Renjun laughs at how red they are. 

“Sure,” he replies, popping a fry into his mouth.

“Are you busy after this?” Jaemin asks, taking a sip of his own milkshake. Renjun doesn’t miss how he grips the cup for a second before pressing the hands to his ears. He knows that Jaemin knows he can tell when he’s lying, but with his lack of effort in trying to hide it, Renjun thinks that maybe Jaemin wants him to know.

“Probably not. Why?”

“Can I come over to yours?” Jaemin peels his hands away from his head, and surprisingly, the red has gone down a considerable amount. 

Renjun can’t help but smile at his plate as he picks the burger up. 

“You don’t even have to ask.”

☆★

“Okay, I  _ have  _ to ask.”

Jaemin is sprawled on his stomach on Renjun’s bed, his socked feet swinging in the air.

Renjun, sitting on his desk chair, spins to face Jaemin for the fourth time that afternoon. The clock is ticking slowly towards three p.m., and Renjun has barely been able to write three sentences of his literature essay because each time he gets his train of thought back on track, Jaemin yanks it off its rails.

“Hm?”

The afternoon sunlight is streaming into Renjun’s wide window, one that gives a clear look at Donghyuck’s house. Jaemin seems to be staring at it in thought, and a dreadful feeling begins to cloud in Renjun’s stomach.

“You’ve met your neighbor, right? The one around our age?” Jaemin turns his vision to Renjun, who nods slowly. The boy grins, shaking his pink bangs from his eyes. “Can I meet him?”

Renjun freezes.

“Why?” 

Jaemin shrugs, then rolls onto his back. “I’m just curious.”

Renjun half melts in his seat. After his encounter with Donghyuck earlier, he still isn’t sure if he wants to see the boy any time soon, due to the suspicions piling in his head. 

And the suspicions that are bound to be piling in  _ Donghyuck’s  _ head too.

Renjun has barely stopped thinking about the honey-haired boy since that morning, and he’d hoped to spend the rest of the day without bumping into him, but if Jaemin is going to meet him, then Renjun has to go. 

_ For safety reasons, you know? _

“Must you?” 

Jaemin quickly rolls back, eyes slanted in speculation. “Why not?”

Feigning nonchalance, Renjun shrugs, turning his seat back to the desk. “Don’t know. He’s not that great of a person, honestly.” 

“That makes me even more intrigued,” Renjun hears rustling behind him and soon he’s being spun around by Jaemin, who has a cheeky grin on his face. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Renjun can barely process what’s happening before Jaemin grabs at his wrists and yanks him out of the seat, dragging him to the door. Renjun’s fingers find his door frame before they can get very far though, stopping the two in their tracks. “Why? He’s probably busy.”

“No harm in trying,” Jaemin says, peeling Renjun’s fingers away and continuing to pull him down. They’re the only ones in the house, bare feet pattering on the marble steps. Renjun’s parents are still at work, despite it being a Saturday, and Renjun sees his plans for a peaceful afternoon quickly spiraling down the drain. 

Soon, the two are out of Renjun’s front door and standing on the empty porch, the cool air spiraling around them. They step onto the small grassy area beside where the cars should be, toes freezing and uncovered. Renjun, who didn’t have any time to put a hoodie on either, stuffs his hands in his pockets, hairs standing up on his bare arms. 

“What’s your plan, huh?” He asks Jaemin, who has slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

“I don’t know, I was counting on you to have that sorted.” 

The two of them stare at each other for a beat. Renjun almost snorts in disbelief. 

“I can’t see him anywhere,” Renjun starts, already turning to guide Jaemin back to his front door, “so let’s just go back insi-”

“Hey!” Rings a now-familiar, and very much dreaded voice in Renjun’s ear. His limbs feel like instant ice and not from the cold. He can’t even bring himself to turn around and instead stays frozen with his hands on Jaemin’s arms, hoping that his best friend would sense his discomfort. Unfortunately for him, Jaemin’s smile is widening by the second, and he knows he’s trapped.

“Hi!” Jaemin calls out, waving. Momentarily his focus flickers to Renjun whose face has morphed into a wince, and frowns, “dude, he’s here. And he’s pretty.”

Now Renjun frowns, turning to see Donghyuck upon the comment. Regret drops on him like an anvil, because the sight of the afternoon sun shining down on Donghyuck’s honey skin is not doing good things to his focus, and neither is the all-knowing smile playing on his lips, which is making his heart palpitate in more ways than one (though he would not admit it).

“I’m Donghyuck, what’s your name?” He calls out, leaning over the short wall that separates the two houses. As they’re located on a hill, Donghyuck’s house is naturally higher than his, thus meaning he has to stand on a small ledge to be able to peer into Renjun’s front yard. 

“Jaemin,” the pink-haired boy grins. Like a child, he turns to Renjun, lowering his voice to an excited whisper. “He’s so nice?”

Renjun scoffs, feigning insouciance when in reality, his heart is beating against his rib cage. “He just introduced himself, what’s so nice about that?” 

Jaein rolls his eyes, “can we invite him in?”

“What?” Renjun blurts, a decibel too loud for his comfort. He can already feel Donghyuck’s eyes burning two holes in his back, curious, but probably coming to a conclusion themselves.

_ Probably the right one, _ Renjun thinks hopelessly, still haunted by their conversation in the car earlier that day.

“It was nice meeting you, Jaemin,” Donghyuck suddenly says, smile softer than before. “I would love to hang around, but I’ve got to cover someone’s shift at work today, so I’m gonna head off.”

The two turn back to Donghyuck, one disappointed, and the other more than relieved. Despite Donghyuck’s last sentence being aimed at Jaemin, his eyes immediately lock onto Renjun’s, the depth of the gaze making him shiver. There’s a glint in it, one that isn’t from the sun, one that communicates so much, yet nothing at all. 

And all Renjun can do is stare. 

“I’m sure we’ll meet again,” the boy says, shifting his focus to Jaemin, “soon.”

He hops off the ledge daintily, the sound of his two feet connecting with the grass below barely audible. Renjun’s heartbeat remains ever-present in his chest as he stares at the now empty wall, jaw clenched unknowingly.

“Is he not that nice?” Jaemin asks, catching on a little too late to Renjun’s lack of joy. The brunet turns to his best friend, not processing the question. “Are you okay?” Jaemin adds, concern replacing his previous puppy-like expression.

Renjun nods, clearing his throat. “He’s… no, yeah he is nice. I just… I don’t know him very well yet so I’m kind of uncomfortable.” It’s not the entire truth, but it isn’t a complete lie either. Still, Jaemin’s forehead creases in suspicion.

“I can believe that, but I can tell that isn’t it,” Jaemin mumbles. “And that’s okay! You… don’t have to tell me everything.”

The end of his sentence trails off and a far too familiar sense of guilt strikes Renjun. Jaemin is far too smart and knows him far too well to be satisfied with an answer like that, this Renjun knows. He also knows that Jaemin is holding back a torrent of emotions for the sake of his best friend, knowing that there are some things Renjun doesn’t want to share. 

_ Except, he’s wrong. _ Renjun thinks, studying Jaemin’s face. He hasn’t moved from his spot but has taken his eyes off of Renjun, probably gathering himself internally. Renjun knows how much Jaemin hates getting angry, especially at Renjun.

Renjun wants to tell him everything, but he can’t.

Especially now that Donghyuck has his own suspicions. The breeze drifts over the two as Renjun thinks about how little he knows about Donghyuck, but how much Donghyuck has managed to find out about him. 

_ And what if he’s a bad guy?  _

Renjun can’t risk losing Jaemin. If Donghyuck isn’t who Renjun hopes he is, then Jaemin could immediately become a primary target, and Jaemin knowing about Renjun’s secrets puts him at an even higher risk.

The thought makes him shiver, and Jaemin frowns. “Are you cold?”

“Hm?”

Jaemin sighs then pulls his lips into a thin, but bright smile, swinging his arm over Renjun’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”

Renjun looks at him, gratitude blooming in his chest. It makes him smile in a way only Jaemin can make him smile. 

“Are you hungry?” Jaemin asks as the two round the cars and start up the few steps to the front door. “Because I’m famished.”

“Again?” Renjun asks, giggling. He’s comfortable despite the goosebumps covering every inch of his exposed skin and shakes his head fondly when Jaemin nods. “Let’s order food then.”

“And watch a movie,” Jaemin grins, pulling open the slightly ajar front door. They’re soon surrounded by the comforting warmth of Renjun’s living room, and as the minutes go by and the preparation for their movie night gets done, Renjun starts to safely believe that the interaction with Donghyuck has safely been discarded to the back of Jaemin’s mind for the night.

At around six p.m, the two of them are settled in front of the television located on the second floor of the house, in the family room that sits in the middle of the bedrooms and office. It has been a good three hours since they’d talked to Donghyuck, and in the midst of showering and collecting their ordered dinner, even Renjun managed to forget.

“Come sit,” Jaemin calls out from the sofa, dressed in one of the many sets of clothes he’s forgotten at Renjun’s house over the past few years. His pink hair is rosy and limp from the shower, his cheeks still flush from the water. Renjun showered in his parents' bathroom whilst Jaemin showered in his, and now, warm and holding a bowl of Chinese food, he grins, taking his seat by Jaemin on the sofa.

As he settles, Jaemin scrolls through the contents of Netflix’s main page, wordlessly scanning through the multitudes of choices.

“Hey, Renjun?” He starts, without removing his focus from the screen. He begins to swipe through the popular movies section.

“Mhmm?” Renjun replies, getting increasingly more comfortable after setting the food on the small table he’d dragged out from the storage. 

“What’s the deal with Donghyuck?” Jaemin places the remote in his lap, the movie ‘Spiderman: Far From Home’ sitting in a white box on the screen, enlarged as if asking to confirm their choice. He turns back to where Renjun is leaning on the back of the sofa, smile nowhere to be found.

Caught off-guard, Renjun swallows, sitting up. “Nothing, I told you. I just don’t know him too well, and you know how I am with strangers.”

Jaemin sighs. “I’m not  _ that  _ clueless, you know? I saw that look you guys shared. I saw how you reacted to him.” He shifts slightly, moving to be level with Renjun at the beck of the sofa. “I just want to know if you don’t like him or not. If you don’t like him, I don’t like him, simple.”

Despite himself, Renjun smiles. “I do like him, kind of,” he adds rushedly. “There is just something about him that feels… off.”

“Like he’s a bad omen?”

Renjun nods slowly, unsure. “I guess.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says simply, picking up the remote and pressing on the movie. As it loads, he grabs a pair of wooden chopsticks, snapping them effortlessly, and hands it to Renjun. The brunet takes it gratefully, thinking that it’s finally over as the first scene rolls in.

Then, Jaemin speaks again, just as he gets comfortable. “Give him a chance.”

Renjun frowns, turning to Jaemin, whose eyes are still on the screen. “What do you mean?”

“You have your own feeling about him, and so do I,” Jaemin says, smiling at him for a moment before turning back to the movie, shrugging. “He could be good for you.”

“What do you mean?” Renjun repeats, chopsticks hovering above his takeout container.

Jaemin shushes him, scolding him for talking during the movie. Renjun rolls his eyes, unsatisfied with the unanswered question, but lets himself get lost in the movie, despite having watched it three times already. 

Later, after making the spontaneous decision that Jaemin will stay the night, Renjun finds himself staring at his best friend who is fast asleep on a futon by his bed, skin glowing gently with the blue light of his clock. Renjun’s hands are warm beneath his pillow, accompanying the thoughts running around in his head, making the gears inside it burn with exhaustion. 

_ Give him a chance?  _ Renjun thinks, rolling from his shoulder to his back. He stares aimlessly at the ceiling.  _ He ‘could be good for me’? _

Frustrated, Renjun shuts his eyes, mind still whirring with energy. He trusts Jaemin more than he trusts half of his teammates with his life, and Jaemin would never say something like that for fun, knowing that Renjun would not be able to stop thinking about it for at least three days. 

Giving Donghyuck a chance sounds appealing to a part of Renjun’s brain, the part that is intrigued and slightly attracted to how Donghyuck works. It’s like he’s constantly allowing himself to be caught by Renjun, only to escape and make Renjun chase after him again. He is unpredictable and knows exactly what he’s doing, and it tires Renjun, makes him feel like he should just give up. 

Yet he keeps chasing. 

Unable to keep his exasperation inside, he lets out a soft groan and rolls to his side, facing away from Jaemin. He’s beyond exhausted, mentally and physically, and all he wants to do is slip away from reality and into his dreamland where Donghyuck ceases to exist.

All night, he chases sleep.

But sleep never comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... it's me again :)
> 
> i feel like as soon as i said i was going to update more regularly i just... poofed. and I'm sorry TT
> 
> but hey! i wrote a piece for a fic fest in the mean time, and recovered from my intense writer's block w this chapter. so here it is !! the story will move a liiiittle faster now... so buckle up. just for safety reasons :)
> 
> thank u for reading <3


	13. shaky hands

Time inches by ever so slowly. 

It ticks by painstakingly, making Renjun feel on edge every second. His days go by as normal: school for a few hours, then training. Time with Jaemin. Unintentional short talks with Donghyuck across balconies, or on the way home, or on the way out, each one peppered with questions, unsaid and unanswered. Every day is the same as all the previous days of Renjun’s life, besides the presence of Lee Donghyuck.

It makes everything feel different.

Time is relative, that is what Renjun believes. It’s the reason training takes up the most time in his day, despite school hours being longer. Why he feels more tired at the end of days he doesn’t do much, instead of those packed with endless activity. And now, it seems that Lee Donghyuck has a grip on his time.

Every interaction leaves Renjun more fatigued than relentless training sessions. He can barely go a handful of hours without the picture of golden skin and doll-like lips printing itself on the back of his eyelids, alongside the reluctant suspicions and terrifying possibilities attached to the photo with red string.

Every word, every twitch of a brow, each one is analyzed in his subconscious, constantly reminding Renjun that there is just something so off about Donghyuck. Ever since that day in his car, nothing has been the same. 

For Renjun, at least.

On the other hand, Donghyuck seems completely fine. He treats Renjun as normal and asks Renjun normal questions. 

**_October 31st_ **

“Are you not going trick-or-treating?” 

Renjun snaps his head up, paintbrush almost skittering uncontrollably over the lines printed on his canvas. 

“Jeez, couldn’t you have warned me?” Renjun grumbles, shooting a glare in Donghyuck’s direction. He only smiles that stupidly charming smile of his, running a careless hand through his soft hair. 

“Sorry, Princess.”

Renjun can’t help but run his eyes over Donghyuck’s get-up. As hard as he tries to ignore the boy and return to his painting, the sight of his flowy white shirt tucked into his black jeans does not make the task easy. His waist is slim and supple, chest broader than Renjun imagined it was, and it’s all too distracting for him.

“Like what you see?” Donghyuck asks, with more than a hint of ego in his voice. It completely ruins Renjun’s view.

Almost.

“No,” he mutters, easily taking his attention off of his neighbor. Although, the image of Donghyuck’s endlessly long legs and perfect stature is hard to forget. He speaks again without lifting his vision. “I assume you’re going? Trick-or-treating, that is, unless you’re dressed as a Prince Caspar for fun.”

Donghyuck nods, despite Renjun not looking at him, “Me and Kimi are going together.”

“Kimi and I,” Renjun corrects.

“Whatever.”

As if on cue, Donghyuck’s balcony door slides open with a swoosh, revealing a pink-cheeked four-year-old in a bright yellow fairy costume, a sparkling tiara on her head, to which Renjun momentarily takes his eyes off of his painting.

“Yuckie!” Kimi squeals. Renjun peers at her with soft eyes as she grabs onto her older brother’s arm, revealing a side of Donghyuck that rarely shows itself. His smile is glistening with none of the cheek it usually has, and all of the love in the world. A smile threatens to lift Renjun’s neutral lips. 

“Hi baby,” Donghyuck says gently, patting her head. “You wanna go now?” Kimi nods, and Donghyuck nods, “okay, you go in and grab your bucket first and head down. I’ll be there in a sec.” With that, the little girl runs off, dark pigtails bouncing as she disappears back into the house. 

“She’s so cute,” Renjun says, dropping his guard for a moment. After all, what can Donghyuck do to him from his balcony? 

Donghyuck nods, leaning against the rail. “She’s my everything.” A short pause fills the space, the breeze cool fluttering through their hair. As Donghyuck turns away, Renjun is made aware of the late afternoon sun, like a warm hug around the two. Just the sight of Donghyuck smiling, genuinely enjoying himself in the moment is enough to make Renjun feel like he’s standing on the edge of a drop, inches away from falling.

_ This.  _

_ This is what Donghyuck can do to me. _

Donghyuck, in all his infuriating, bewitching glory, his ability to drive Renjun crazy by doing absolutely nothing. 

“Do you want to come with us?” Donghyuck asks. 

Renjun can barely muster up the will to shake his head, denying the invitation as politely as possible. Donghyuck pouts, forcing Renjun to look away, hand shaking as he tries to remember what color he is supposed to be painting with.

“You really won’t come?’ Donghyuck asks again, making Renjun shake his head. “I’m sure we have a spare Rapunzel dress you can squeeze into.” The sparkle in his voice is enough to pull Renjun back in again, making him roll his eyes despite the constricting feeling he’s getting in his ribs. 

“I’m good,” Renjun settles for. He watches as Donghyuck stands up again, sighing as if disappointed. It confuses him how hard it is to say no to this boy. 

“I’ll see you around then,” Donghyuck says with a wink, before disappearing as suddenly as he arrived.

**_November 4th_ **

As Renjun feels himself settle into the familiar cushion of one side of a booth, he frowns, deliberately trying to squeeze a sense of guilt out of Jaemin, who is barely paying attention to him.

“Couldn’t we have gone to La Chat Noir?” Renjun whines, finally getting Jaemin to look at him, clearly clueless as to what Renjun is saying. Behind him, the sun is far past the horizon, leaving them under the comfort of a starless sky. Renjun raises a suspecting brow. “You do know Mark’s shift ended an hour ago, right?”

Jaemin scowls at Renjun, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t looking for him.”

“Sure,” Renjun hums, the small smile on his face gradually disappearing when he remembers where they are, and who  _ is  _ here. “Still. Couldn’t we have eaten anywhere else?”

“Why?” Jaemin asks, folding his arms on the table, “We eat here all the time.”

“I… I know, it’s just,” Renjun pauses, glancing around. He still hasn’t decided whether to tell Jaemin about his unease towards Donghyuck, because frankly, there is no visible reason as to why he should feel like that at all. “I don’t know.”

Jaemin smiles gently, “don’t worry. If you don’t want to talk to Donghyuck, I can.”

“You don’t wanna talk to me?” A sickeningly familiar voice strolls up by Renjun, who winces. Donghyuck sidles up to the side of the table, curiosity widening his eyes as he prepares to take their orders. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Renjun blurts, only to be greeted with a raised eyebrow from the waiter. “I just… no. It’s not that.”

“Then?” Donghyuck asks, his voice steady and smooth, masking any emotion besides partially-veiled amusement.

Renjun shakes his head, ears burning. “Nothing.” 

A terse silence descends upon them and Renjun starts feeling suffocated, desperate for anyone to break it. His eyes remain trained on the shiny surface of the table, unable to look at the boy standing by him, unfairly handsome in a shirt and apron.

“Orders then, please?” Donghyuck asks, professional as ever. 

“I’d like a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake, please,” Jaemin asks politely. When Renjun catches his eye, he pleads wordlessly and is grateful when Jaemin nods with a gentle smile. “And a classic burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake for Renjun, please.” 

Risking a look, Renjun lifts his vision, then quickly regrets his choice when he sees Donghyuck peering at him over the edge of the pad of paper in his hand, writing his order down. Renjun turns away, swallowing the ball in his throat. 

Donghyuck repeats the short order, then with an affirmation from Jaemin, leaves a buzzer on the table and walks off. 

“He’s gone,” Jaemin says ever so neutrally, allowing Renjun to let out the tension and breath that had been stocked up within him for the last few minutes. Jaemin, however, doesn’t let him rest. He leans on the table again, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So?”

Renjun, now recovered from whatever he was feeling just now, leans back into the booth seat. “What?”

“What was that?” Jaemin asks with a disbelieving huff. “I’ve never seen  _ the  _ Renjun Huang freak out in front of anyone like that.”

“I didn’t ‘freak out’.”

Jaemin scoffs, his lips parted in awe. “Come on, Renjun. You couldn’t even speak to him.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, but can’t help acknowledge Jaemin’s statement. He’s right, Renjun has never freaked out in front of anyone like that before, at least not in front of Jaemin. After all, he’s trained not to freak out in any situation.

_ Right? _

When Renjun doesn’t say anything, Jaemin sighs heavily, dropping one of his arms across the table, palm up. Renjun frowns at first, but with one beckoning gesture leans forward. His hand hovers above Jaemin’s open palm for a moment, hesitant and slightly put off, but Jaemin snatches it anyway, forcing Renjun to open his fingers from the fist he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Hm,” Jaemin says, automatically pulling his other hand up. Renjun has no choice but to give him his other hand. For a moment, Jaemin studies the back of Renjun’s hand and fingers, quiet, and Renjun relaxes. Then, he suddenly lets go, leaving Renjun’s hands to the warmth of the diner instead.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Jaemin says, leaning back. “Your hands were a little shaky.”

Renjun looks down at his hands, now steady. He realizes then that his heart rate has lowered significantly as well, and his shoulders don’t feel so tense. 

_ Did I really freak out? _

“Next time,” Jaemin starts again, making Renjun tense just slightly. It washes away with the “We’ll go to La Chat Noir.”

**_November 17th_ **

Renjun has a new bruise. 

Sitting in the locker room, notes on aldehydes and ketones splayed across his lap, Renjun presses two cold fingers to his jaw, the bruise blooming there aching just slightly. Training hadn’t been too difficult, but with Renjun being a day away from Finals week, he hadn’t been concentrating well, and let himself get hooked in the face by Ten.

“Get yourself together,” Ten had grumbled, probably not aware that Renjun could see him flexing his fingers. Despite the rough tone, Renjun internally thanked him, because it was exactly what he needed to make it through the rest of training. 

“You okay?” Yangyang asks, sitting himself down by Renjun. The younger members are always allowed to use the showers earlier than the older boys, all of which are either showering or putting clothes on. Only he, Yangyang, and Hendery are done so far. 

“As okay as I can be,” Renjun sighs, watching as Yangyang pulls his phone out of his pocket, completely relaxed. “I’m jealous of you.”

Yangyang smirks, but locks his phone before opening anything. “Moving schools has its perks,” he mutters. “Want me to help you study? I can test you on term definitions or whatever.” He scans over Renjun’s notes, wincing.

Renjun shakes his head and shuts his notes. He had studied in the car on the way here, and right before training. Now, exhausted, slightly numb, and cold, he decides he can't process any more information. 

But, he can talk.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Renjun starts, peering around the locker room. So far no one is near them, save for Hendery with his headphones in and on the other end of the bench. Considering the sound of the running water and the soft music being played in Xiaojun’s shower, he concludes that he can safely confide in Yangyang without anyone else listening. 

“What’s up?” 

Renjun hesitates. To him, Yangyang is his best friend just like Jaemin is, just in a different world. As the familiar cloud of unease gathers in his chest, Renjun wonders why he hadn’t confided in Yangyang about this earlier. 

With one final scan of the room, Renjun shifts closer to Yangyang, who visibly becomes more intrigued. 

“Remember that one mission we had last month? The one where I-” Renjun internally winces- “made a mistake?”

Yangyang nods, watching Renjun with serious eyes.

“What if I told you that I lied?” 

Yangyang blinks. “Huh?” 

Renjun sighs, lowering his volume even further to the point that Yangyang has to lean in to hear. “I lied.”

“About?”

“About not approaching. Not interacting with… the man.” Renjun can feel the tendrils of guilt start to wrap around his lungs, but he barrels through anyway. The feeling of this lie has been harboring in the muscles in his chest for too long, and despite feeling guiltier by the second, Renjun can’t help but feel relieved as well. 

“I interacted with the man,” he continues, “I followed him, caught up to him, and talked to him.” 

Yangyang remains calculatingly quiet, waiting expressionlessly for Renjun to continue.

“And um,” Nerves tied up in his stomach, Renjun swallows, “I know the guy.”

Renjun’s heart drops as he watches shock flicker across Yangyang’s eyes. 

“You… hold on,” Yangyang says, uncrossing his arms to run his palms over his face. “You know the target? Does the target know you?”

Renjun nods.

“Holy shit,” Yangyang mutters, shell-shocked. “Explain.”

So Renjun does. As planned, he doesn’t tell the whole truth. Renjun decides on explaining everything in detail, from the first time he met Donghyuck, to the conversation in the car. The only thing he leaves out is the part where he almost blows his cover, and more importantly, that Donghyuck probably knows. 

“Damn.” 

Renjun nods, chest feeling considerably lighter. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean?” Yangyang asks as Ten open his locker behind him. The two lower their voices and realize that this conversation needs to come to an end soon before it gets suspicious. 

“I still feel so… so weird about him,” Renjun starts, hands fluttering around in distress, “but he treats me just the same.”

“Well, he has no reason to suspect you of anything.”

Renjun sighs inwardly.  _ You would think. _

“How do I act around him, knowing that he might be someone different?”

Yangyang leans back, lips bunching on one side of his face in thought. Over his shoulder, Renjun watches as other members of the team start getting dressed, and notes the lack of water running in the background. Thankfully, no one is paying attention to the two whispering boys on the bench, and are all doing their own thing. 

“Just forget it.”

Renjun’s attention is whirled back to Yangyang. “Huh?”

Yangyang offers a smile as comforting as possible, laying a single hand on Renjun’s shoulder. “His explanation is seamless, Jun. He’s more than likely telling the truth, and you’re more than likely overthinking it all. Just treat him as usual. Forget that the incident ever happened.” 

Renjun merely stares, blinking dumbly.  _ Could I really just be overthinking? _

Just as he is about to ask something else, the door to the changing room whirs open, revealing a cozy-looking and smiling Taeyong. 

“Please don’t tell me we have another impromptu training session,” Hendery whines from the lockers. 

Taeyong only laughs, shaking his head. After all, he only carries his backpack and is dressed in a thick jacket to cover his Organization merchandise. 

“Just wanted to check in, seeing as some of you have exams coming up.” Right on cue, half of the team groans, all reminded of the incoming papers looming over their heads. “Your training is halved for the next two weeks, so just come on Sundays and Fridays, and you can leave an hour early if you’d like.” Sounds of relief ripple through the cold room. “Only if you’re having exams, though. For the rest of you, training as normal.”

Yangyang groans loudly next to Renjun, eliciting a silent giggle from the latter. 

“Besides that, good-night!” Taeyong says, two fingers to his forehead in a casual salute. “Good luck with your exams for those who have them, and see you on Wednesday for those who don’t.” 

The eight boys watch Taeyong leave with various forms of farewells, returning to what they were doing once he’s gone. 

A stronger sense of relief settles upon Renjun. News of reduced training is always good, and maybe the physical, mental and emotional exhaustion he’s been feeling all day is the reason why he is genuinely considering following what Yangyang said. 

_ Just forget about it. _

“Renjun,” Yangyang says, standing. He picks up his stuff, gesturing for Renjun to do the same with a knowing smile, “trust me.”

Renjun smiles back, knowing fully well that he can do just that.

☆★

Finals go by faster than ever before, and before Renjun realizes it, Jaemin is winking at him from outside the examination hall, mouthing a silent ‘good luck’ as they walk in row by row for their final paper. 

It goes by swellingly, and Renjun blesses the post-training nights where his out-of-school teammates would test him on definitions and formulas and context points for his varying subjects. The routine of doing papers in total silence with only a hoodie and a clear pencil case to accompany him has oddly put him into a better mood than exams should, leaving him something to think about besides Donghyuck.

Not that Donghyuck is much of a problem. The rooftop has been a constant place of comfort for Renjun, and this year is the first that he decided to try revising there. Unsurprisingly, he’d bumped into Donghyuck more than a few times, but over the course of two weeks, he’d realized that Yangyang had been right.

There is nothing wrong with Lee Donghyuck. Renjun will admit that he felt guilty the first time he started a balcony conversation and was on the receiving end of Donghyuck’s expression of genuine shock. Renjun will also admit that  _ maybe  _ he giggled a little when Donghyuck dramatically placed a palm on his chest with a high-pitched, “you’re talking to me?”

Now, celebrating the end of finals week with Jaemin’s arm swung across his shoulder, Renjun thinks of inviting Donghyuck out with them.

You know. Friends. 

“Stop thinking so much,” Jaemin grumbles as they push through the glass doors and out into the parking lot. Boots crunch on the gravel as the wind blows by them, more than a few people passing with beanies and earmuffs covering their ears. Despite the chill, every face holds a smile, every misty breath curling with joy.

November 29th, and they’re finally free from school for the year.

Almost.

“I can’t believe we still have to go to school for a week. Like what is up with that?” Renjun complains. Don’t get him wrong, he’s happy, but what’s the point of going to school when exams have finally been completed?

“Oh, come on, Jun. It’s the best week of the year!” 

Renjun thinks Jaemin might be right as he fumbles for his car keys. For a week, the students get to do absolutely nothing at school. Games, movies, and all sorts of fun stuff are set up in classrooms. Even though they don’t have a lot of friends, the two of them still enjoy it, and, well, it’s nice.

“I might just not come in,” Renjun says softly, knowing the reaction he’ll get.

“WHAT?” Jaemin shouts from the passenger side.

Renjun winces.  _ There it is. _

“Why?” Jaemin whines, shutting the door gently once he’s taken a seat next to Renjun. 

Renjun shrugs, and fumbles for the engine button, only speaking again once he hears the familiar hum of the battery powering his car. “There’s no point.”

Jaemin scoffs, “because Yukhei isn’t there for you to flirt with this year?”

Renjun freezes, hands gripping the wheel. For the past two weeks, he’s barely given his sticky situation with Yukhei a thought, more focused on acing his exams and allowing himself to relax around Donghyuck. 

“No.”

“Then?” Jaemin asks, all traces of disbelief gone, with only desperation and genuine disappointment left. “If you’re not going, I’m not going.”

A smile threatens to pull at Renjun’s lips, but he masks it with another shrug, pressing his forearm to the seat as he reverses the car out, taking care not to run into a student. “If you say so.”

“OH, COME ON!”

Renjun laughs as the car accelerates, shaking his head. “I’ll consider it.”

Jaemin grins. “That’s the spirit!” he says, as he pulls his phone out to connect to Renjun’s stereo system. 

“Let’s go to the park today.”

“Sure!” Jaemin exclaims, scrolling through his music. “Can we invite Donghyuck?”

Swallowing, Renjun considers it. He’d been thinking about it already, but Jaemin’s request leaves him feeling more nervous than ever. 

Jaemin knows that Renjun and Donghyuck are okay. It has been evident every time they would somehow spot the new boy when Jaemin would go over to Renjun’s to study. For a split second, Renjun takes his eyes off of the road to peer over to Jaemin, who has his eyes glued to his phone as his finger pushes through his endless library of songs. There’s a whisper of a smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” Renjun says shortly, turning back to the road before Jaemin catches his eye. “We can invite him.”

The pink-haired boy grins, and the familiar introduction chords of ‘Chiquitita’ by ABBA start reverberating through the car. 

☆★

Approximately an hour later, Renjun finds himself burning with anxiousness as he sits on a stationary swing with Jaemin cross-legged on the floor, picking at the turf beneath him. It shouldn’t be so hard for Renjun to relax, but the fact that  _ Donghyuck  _ is gently swinging beside him doesn’t allow it.

_ Does he like this kind of stuff?  _ Renjun can’t help but think, casting a cautious glance in Donghyuck’s direction. The gods of embarrassment seem to be on his side today, as Donghyuck doesn’t pay any attention to him, immersed in a deep conversation about Mark with Jaemin.

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but do you and Mark have… a thing?” Donghyuck asks, rocking the swing back and forth. He seems genuinely curious, which Renjun can’t blame him for, seeing as Jaemin seems to have a lot to say about Mark, but nothing to say about them  _ together _ .

Renjun smirks, catching Jaemin’s panicked eye. 

“Um, no, we don’t, I just,” Jaemin frowns at Renjun’s expression, consisting of a raised brow that challenges him to admit what he’s been denying for the longest time. Jaemin’s face snaps back to neutrality before Donghyuck can start questioning their silent conversation, and he turns back to the boy with a newfound air of confidence, his throat bobbing once before he says, “I kinda like him.”

Renjun’s jaw drops.

“You’re telling  _ him _ ?” Incredulous, Renjun forgets all about his apprehension that followed the momentary addition of Donghyuck to their friend group. “You didn’t even admit it to me!” 

“I didn’t have to!” Jaemin throws back, picking at a loose piece of turf, “you already knew!”

“You never admitted it to me!” Renjun shouts, leaning forward on the swing, close to losing his balance. He scoffs, but can’t help the disbelieving smile that tugs at his lips. “Unbelievable.” 

“Whatever!” Jaemin sticks out his tongue playfully, making Donghyuck giggle.

Renjun hates the fluttery feeling in his stomach that comes right after. 

Jaemin is about to say something to Donghyuck when his phone starts ringing loudly. He frowns upon seeing the contact, polite as ever as he apologizes to the two boys before picking it up. Out of instinct, he stands and walks away, muttering words beneath his breath as he approaches the seesaw on the other side of the giant structure, leaving Renjun and Donghyuck in silence. 

There is no denying how  _ tense  _ it is. 

Renjun peers at his toes, upper teeth pressing into his lower lip as he feels his ears start to burn. They’ve had enough conversations over the past two weeks that they should be okay, but the sudden disappearance of Jaemin has dropped them into a…  _ situation _ . Perhaps it’s the location because  _ why is everything suddenly so weird? _

Maybe it was the invitation itself. 

When Renjun pulled up into his driveway earlier, he’d already begun to hear the voices of regret whispering devilishly into his ears, telling him he was making a mistake in inviting Donghyuck out with him and Jaemin. 

But the passenger door had already slammed shut, and Jaemin was half ready to start calling for the boy himself.

Sometimes, Renjun believes that ever since Donghyuck arrived, the gods of fate decided to give him a considerably large amount of misfortune, seeing as every time Renjun hopes Donghyuck won’t appear, he does. 

So there Donghyuck stood, surprised at the well-timed arrival of the two from his front door, peering over the wall that separated them. 

“Hey guys,” Donghyuck had said simply. 

Two words. Seven letters. It still made Renjun feel tingly all over. 

Jaemin shot Renjun a meaningful look, and Renjun knew it was too late to back out. 

“Hey…” Renjun started, the temptation to run away growing stronger by the second.  _ What is wrong with me?  _ “Do you wanna go out?” 

And for the first time since Renjun could remember, Donghyuck was speechless.

“I- What?” Renjun could swear Donghyuck choked on his words there. 

“With us!” Jaemin blurted, desperate to salvage the calm atmosphere that was clearly crumbling in front of their eyes. “Just out, to the playground or something.”

“Playground?” Donghyuck had asked, seeming to have regained his usual carefree demeanor. At first, Renjun thought (hoped) he would say no, seeing as it’s a playground and ‘playgrounds are for kids’, but no. He only smiled, sweet as ever, right in Renjun’s direction with an, “I would love to.”

And now here they are. 

Sitting in silence. A silence filled with tension that neither of them seems to know how to address.

“Jaemin should really try with Mark,” Donghyuck starts, making Renjun sigh with the relief of not having to be the one to talk first. “It sounds like he really likes the guy.”

Renjun smiles, not moving his vision from the ground just yet. “He would, but I think he thinks that he has no chance.”

“Why?”

Before Renjun can answer, Jaemin reappears from behind the slide structure, donning an irritated frown as he grips his phone. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He doesn’t take a seat, and the lack of usual sparkle in his eye is gone. Renjun is already halfway through figuring out what is wrong. 

“You have to go?” He asks, unable to leave the disappointment out of his tone. Jaemin nods. 

“Totally lame. Some prick busted his DSRC somehow and my dad can’t figure out what to do with it.”

As much as Jaemin makes it seem as if he hates what they do, he really doesn’t. He’ll try and convince you that it’s  _ ‘only because I was raised in that house’ _ , but Renjun knows that no matter where he was born or who he was born to, he’ll always have a fascination with motors. 

“See you around,” Jaemin salutes, reminding Renjun of Taeyong for a second. 

At that moment, the odd thought occurs to him; he thinks of how separate his worlds are. He’s gotten used to it, but other than the occasional lunch with Yukhei, he realizes he doesn’t publicly hang out with his teammates very much. Even then, it’s not like he’s hung out with Yukhei very much recently. 

As Jaemin waves them goodbye and heads off to the nearest bus stop, Renjun’s vision follows his back. His heart feels heavy somehow, but he isn’t entirely surprised. The line he’s drawn between his two lives is so definite that it presents its own type of guilt- a guilt that comes with living a lie. 

Sometimes, Renjun feels like a two-dimensional shape, only presenting one side at a time, depending on who he’s with. It exhausts him in a different way, the constant need to hold up one wall around everyone he’s with. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Renjun whirls to Donghyuck, who seems to have been staring at him for a good while. Jaemin’s back is long gone, but he had been staring into the distance for too long. He can tell from the way his eyes thank him when he blinks. 

“Sorry,” He apologizes, trying to muster up a smile.  _ Maybe it’s just the fatigue hitting me. _

“Maybe a dime,” he starts again, smiling. “More preferably a quarter, though, because I’m kind of broke and every penny counts,” Donghyuck’s tone is light and teasing, and there’s a part of Renjun that hates how easily it makes him smile. “In all seriousness, do you wanna talk about why you were burning two holes in Jaemin’s back as he walked away?”

Renjun shakes his head, sighing, “he didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, I know,” Donghyuck replies, sliding his swing back until his legs are straight. “But there must be something bothering you, right?” 

Renjun watches as Donghyuck lifts his two legs, letting himself fly forward, the breeze fluttering through his hair. From here, Renjun envies how carefree Donghyuck is on the swing, overly-bending his legs to gain momentum because he’ll hit the floor otherwise. 

“Don’t you have work today?” Renjun asks, ignoring his question.

Donghyuck shakes his head, going higher and higher with each swing. Renjun tears his eyes away before he gets a headache from following Donghyuck’s line of movement too much. After a few more creaks of the chains holding the swings, Donghyuck leaps off of the seat, landing like a cat as he shoots Renjun a kind smile. 

It’s almost too much for him to handle.

“There are some things we should talk about, right?” 

Renjun swallows, made aware of a slight tremor in his fingers. He wonders momentarily how Donghyuck can be so calm when confronting someone about something so serious.

“Maybe,” Renjun settles for, as Donghyuck walks up to him. It makes him crane his neck upwards at an uncomfortable angle. 

With an outstretched hand, Donghyuck’s smile grows, a familiar sparkle in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Renjun’s eyes slant with suspicion. “Where?” Still, Renjun finds himself enchanted to the point where he takes the hand without a second thought. 

“That,” Donghyuck starts, giving Renjun’s hand a small squeeze, “is for me to know and you to  _ try  _ and find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey.... it's me again.
> 
> i don't even know how long it has been since my last chapter at this point I'M SO SORRY
> 
> 30k words in, 13 chapters, and the plot is nowhere to be seen HA..... i promise it's coming. like i'm serious, i promise it's coming. it'll be here next chapter... somehow.
> 
> but i wanna make it good. so i apologize if i disappear again, but it's exams season and I'll only be a little freer after may or june which is LAAAAAME but i truly am sorry. i will be writing, just in little bits, so i'm so sorry if it only comes late !! I'll try bring it earlier.
> 
> besides that, thank you for reading. idk how to do that linking thing but my twt is jnobeano and my cc is jnocherry if u wanna talk !!!! <3


End file.
